Expressions of High Status: A Comparative Synthesis 3031054008, 9783031054006

Citation preview

Expressions of High Status A Comparative Synthesis

Jean-Pascal Daloz

Expressions of High Status

Jean-Pascal Daloz

Expressions of High Status A Comparative Synthesis Translated from French by the author

Jean-Pascal Daloz Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique (SAGE) University of Strasbourg, France

ISBN 978-3-031-05400-6    ISBN 978-3-031-05401-3 (eBook) https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3 © The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive licence to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 1st edition: © Max Milo éditions 2021 This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed. The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use. The publisher, the authors, and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations. Credit: borchee This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Switzerland AG. The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland

For Noëlla

Preface to the English Edition

This is the third volume I have devoted to the comparative study of social distinction at the top of societies. In The Sociology of Elite Distinction: From Theoretical to Comparative Perspectives (Palgrave Macmillan, 2010), my aim was to discuss all the models of interpretation at our disposal. I argued that a serious approach to the topic required close analysis of the representations and practices through which high status is signified in any given time and place, rather than deductively applying ready-made schemes of explanation to disparate cases. While I did insist on the problematically reductive assumptions of most available theoretical frameworks, my nuanced view was that they all generated useful insights but should be seen at best as tools that prove more or less relevant from one setting to the next. That book is now a standard reference. However, beyond this first (critical) step, I was logically led to fully reconsider the subject in a comparative mode. My objective was, above all, to develop foundations avoiding ethnocentrism and the risks of undue extrapolation.1 In Rethinking Social Distinction (Palgrave Macmillan, 2013), I thus tried to show how it is possible to provide middle-range theorisations, without succumbing either to the lure of grand universal claims or to excessive relativism. More precisely, revisiting many important themes,2 I identified divergent patterns of social distinction and formulated hypotheses in vii

viii 

Preface to the English Edition

order to account for significant variations. Interpreting them requires inductive work aimed at deciphering contextually meaningful codes, which calls for non-dogmatic reasoning. The idea of writing a third volume, of a more empirical nature, was suggested to me by friends and colleagues from both sides of the Atlantic. They tend to think that after so many years of investigation all over the world, and so much reading, I have acquired an ‘encyclopedic knowledge’ of social distinction matters. This is definitely an overstatement but they managed to convince me that it would be relevant to offer a kind of ‘learned excursion’ across time and space. In The Sociology of Elite Distinction, fifty pages had been dedicated to providing a panorama of the key forms through which social superiority is expressed. The intention was mainly to establish a background for discussing the merits and limits of the analytical frameworks presented in the first part of the book. I have re-investigated this corpus with a different and more ambitious goal in mind: to identify the manifestations and logics of eminent status, from the Neolithic era onwards and all over the world. Many aspects that had only been mentioned in passing (such as distinction through animals, or issues of precedence, for instance) have now received a full treatment. This new opus draws on my own field enquiries and the consultation of more than 2500 academic multidisciplinary publications dealing directly or indirectly with the theme. I have notably used the wonderful facilities offered at Oxford and Yale to do intensive research in libraries. I would like to insist on the fact that Expressions of High Status is not a history of social distinction, nor is it a mere compilation, but the brain-­ child of a comparativist. I must say that, since I started working on this project in 2017, I have often thought that it would have paradoxically been easier to produce half a dozen compendium volumes, punctiliously mentioning all my sources. What is proposed here is a selection. Cases and illustrations have been chosen primarily for the clarity with which they demonstrate the variety of detectable patterns. Let me add that, for a change, I first wrote the manuscript in French and the original edition of the present book came out in Paris in May 2021.3 However, what you have in your hands is not just a translation but

  Preface to the English Edition 

ix

in some respects a slightly different version. The Bibliography (focusing rather this time on empirical contributions) is more extensive and indexes are provided. One last point. As readers familiar with my work know, I often find that if the terminology sometimes used to subsume all sort of realities proves convenient and in a way inevitable, it is far from being entirely satisfactory from a comparative point of view. In this respect, I am quite conscious of the debatable character of the concept of ‘high status’ used for the title of this book, but possible alternatives had their demerits as well. StrasbourgJean-Pascal Daloz October 2021

Notes 1. Knowing that many grand theories with ubiquitous pretension were typically derived from the study of a single society, usually that of the analyst: e.g. Veblen’s ‘Gilded Age’ America, Bourdieu’s France of the 1960–1970s, and so forth. 2. From conspicuousness and understatement to reference models, symbolic consistency, strategic or unconscious grounds of distinction, among others. 3. Under the title: Expressions de supériorité. Petite encyclopédie des distinctions élitistes (Max Milo).

Acknowledgements

My first debt is to Jeffrey Alexander for his continuous support regarding my attempts to reconsider the analysis of social distinction. Thanks to his invitation to the Yale Center for Cultural Sociology in 2017–2018, I was able to consult a multitude of publications, which eventually made this ‘comparative synthesis’ possible. I truly enjoyed the intellectual atmosphere there and had very pleasant discussions with Jeff and many fellows—a special mention being due to Trygve Broch. Before this English version, came the French one. I have several friends and colleagues to thank for their support at that stage, but none more than Benjamin Caraco. We have known each other since our Oxford days and, most luckily for me, he was subsequently appointed to the University of Strasbourg where he now serves as deputy chief librarian. In many ways (from our early discussions over lunch, his meticulous proof-­reading of the manuscript, to his precious help when it came to promoting the book in our country), he played such a crucial role. I cannot stress enough how important he has been to me in recent years. I am most grateful to Jean-Charles Gérard, my Paris publisher, who expressed a strong interest just 50 minutes after having received the book proposal, and to François Noudelmann (the editor of the ‘Voix libres’ series), who also kindly invited me to present this work at the Maison Française of New York University. I should like to thank, as usual, my xi

xii Acknowledgements

good old friends Patrick Bayard, Yann Fauchois, Patrice Meynier and Katri Vallaste who either suggested ideas and illustrations, provided documentation, or solved tricky grammatical difficulties. As for this English version, I wish notably to acknowledge the support of my dear friends and colleagues, Fred Turner and John Higley, as well that of my former post-doctoral assistant Neil Martin (now a policy analyst at OECD). Many thanks to Mahalia Gayle for the aid she provided with the translation, especially her final proof-reading. Last but certainly not least, let me express my gratitude to Sharla Plant, Liam Inscoe-Jones, Connie Li and the staff at Springer for their great professionalism, and to the two anonymous reviewers who recommended that my proposal be accepted as it stood.

Other books by Jean-Pascal Daloz

La représentation politique. Armand Colin, 2017 Rethinking Social Distinction. Palgrave Macmillan, 2013 The Sociology of Elite Distinction: From Theoretical to Comparative Perspectives. Palgrave Macmillan, 2010 Culture Troubles: Politics and the Interpretation of Meaning. Hurst/The University of Chicago Press, 2006 (with P. Chabal) Élites et représentations politiques. La culture de l’échange inégal au Nigeria. Presses universitaires de Bordeaux, 2002 Africa Works: Disorder as Political Instrument. James Currey/Indiana UP, 1999 (with P. Chabal); French version: Économica, 1999; Spanish version: Bellaterra, 2001 Société et politique au Nigeria. Bibliographie annotée, réflexions sur l’état d’avancement des connaissances. Centre d’Étude d’Afrique Noire Bordeaux, 1992 Edited volumes:

The Palgrave Handbook of Political Elites. Palgrave Macmillan, 2017 (with H. Best, J. Higley et al.) Political Leadership in a Global Age: The Experiences of France and Norway. Ashgate, 2003 (with H. Baldersheim); re-published by Routledge in 2019 xiii

xiv 

Other books by Jean-Pascal Daloz

Le (non-)renouvellement des élites en Afrique subsaharienne. Centre d’Étude d’Afrique Noire Bordeaux, 1999 Transitions démocratiques africaines. Dynamiques et contraintes. Karthala, 1997 (with P. Quantin) Paris, Pretoria and the African Continent: The International Relations of States and Societies in Transition. Macmillan, 1996 (with C. Alden) La Zambie contemporaine. Karthala, 1996 (with J. Chileshe) French Revolution: A Nigerian Perspective. Macmillan, 1990 (with E. Nwokedi) Leading Issues in Territorial Decentralisation in Nigeria and France. Ahmadu Bello UP, 1989 (with E.A.O. Oyeyipo et al.)

Contents

1 I ntroduction  1 Part I External Signs   9 2 A  dornments 17 3 R  esidences 39 4 V  ehicles 57 5 F  ood 73 6 B  urials 93 Part II Embodied Signs 107 7 Self-Confidence and Assertiveness111 8 P  hysical Appearance125 xv

xvi Contents

9 D  istinguished Manners141 10 Cultivation and Linguistic Competence157 Part III Vicarious Display 175 11 Relatives and Glamorous (Fe)male Company179 12 F  launting Connections197 13 S  ervants209 14 A  rtists227 15 A  nimals241 Part IV Status-Related Interactions 255 16 Telling Bodily Attitudes259 17 P  recedence277 18 G  ift Exchange293 19 C  onclusion311 B  ibliography315 N  ame Index335 S  ubject Index345

1 Introduction

This work aims to compare social distinction practices worldwide and over the centuries. Its ambition is to show how diverse the expressions and rationales of symbolic superiority can be. Such a comparative endeavour is a reaction against several types of perspectives. First, as was explained in the preamble, my intention is not to produce a catalogue, but to reason in terms of divergences and similarities. Second, the book is utterly opposed to grand theories with universalist pretentions, which claim to be able to reduce the analysis of social distinction to a few major principles deemed ubiquitous. Third, the approach is in no way normative. Let me point out that the universalist and normative veins are often related. When the main concern is a radical critique of ‘mechanisms of domination’, what matters is to confirm the prevalence of allegedly structural invariants, whereas the singularities of the patterns of meaning are considered negligible.

Comparative Explorations When research is not prejudiced by dogmatic assumptions and when the empirical findings of many disciplines are fully taken into account, a real diversity of scenarios can indeed be perceived. In order to give the reader

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 J.-P. Daloz, Expressions of High Status, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3_1

1

2 

J.-P. Daloz

a foretaste of what will be developed in this volume, I would like to provide three brief illustrations of conflicting codes. Regarding greetings, there are contexts where people of lower rank are expected to address their respectful salutations to superiors, out of deference. There are others where they must do no such thing because it is the dominant person who has the initiative of granting a sign of recognition to subordinates, or of ignoring them. Let us now take the example of a scolded servant. In certain parts of the world, it will be required that he keep his eyes lowered, thus showing his submission or even shame. But elsewhere, that kind of behaviour could be apprehended as expressing a lack of attention to the chastisement uttered.1 From the perspective of many analysts, these contradictory principles are somewhat trivial. What counts in their eyes is that interactions state an unequal relationship of power and that in the end the individual belonging to the upper strata enjoys a leading position, remaining in control of the situation. The whole purpose of the present book is, on the contrary, to attach the greatest interest to such discrepancies, which are by no means superficial, and to grasp the motives behind them. But for the time being, here is a third illustration, of a deliberately different nature. Dresses with trains have long been a sign of belonging to the privileged circles. As Veblen has clearly established, wearing very voluminous, luxurious attire indicates that one is not forced to do any kind of manual work.2 Reciprocally, in seventeenth-century Holland, maids used to wear slightly shorter skirts, which facilitated their movements and provided information on their subordinate condition. However, in Ming China (in the same era), a Hanfu touching the ground was looked upon as humiliating. Such was the fate of high-society widows who had the right to hem them only after a year of mourning. Let me add that new fashions have sometimes incited ladies to have their dresses a bit rolled up in order to show off pretty shoes, delicate ankles or sumptuous petticoats. In other words, the very same sign is liable to refer to totally contradictory conventions. Their correct interpretation presupposes a good understanding of the cultural codes in force. This is not a futile exercise, but one that should be at the heart of the analysis of social distinction.

1 Introduction 

3

Beyond Disciplinary Boundaries The method that has made this synthesis possible is rather unorthodox. At least a dozen disciplines contribute to our acquaintance with expressions of high status. It was therefore necessary not to dig furrows in one and only one chosen field (say sociology), but to follow various paths. I should immediately point out that the intention was, of course, not to substitute myself for researchers working in this or that sector. It is nevertheless crucial for the comparativist to take into consideration all available knowledge, whatever its origin. Most likely, many of the brief surveys that will be given here concerning certain aspects, societies or periods will appear succinct to specialists. However, the distance imparted by a broad perspective, encompassing numerous contexts from the Neolithic period to the contemporary world, as well as a wide range of key manifestations of social distinction, begets a wholly different sort of competence. When combined with a sound command of all existing theorisations, it allows one to point out the approximations of various conceptual borrowings and to suggest parallels likely to be ignored by experts confined to their narrow fields of research. Indeed, quite often, it turns out that some authors are unaware of the analyses of adjacent disciplines and make pseudo-discoveries. With that clarification, let me now review the main disciplines on which my comparisons are based. Especially in the case of very ancient settings, archaeological discussions are far from being secondary. This activity, originally conducted by amateurs who favoured an empirical and rather classificatory approach used to disdain abstract formalisations. Later, to a certain extent, it was to draw inspiration from ethnology when it came to interpretation. Today it fully takes part in the fundamental debates stirring up the social sciences. Archaeology is important because of the priority it gives to the study of prestige goods (often the only ones whose remains are preserved) in relation to the advent of ‘complex’ societies resulting from a process of institutionalisation of inequalities.3 In view of their keenness to understand non-Western cultures and the relativism this induces, ethnological perspectives valuably widen our horizons. Admittedly, when anthropology (then a more appropriate

4 

J.-P. Daloz

designation) pretends to identify so-called ‘structural invariants’, it commands much less adhesion. Fortunately, however, the majority of field researchers interested in status and ascendancy give due weight to local meanings.4 History will necessarily occupy a primordial place in the chapters that follow; especially the type which helps us to realise how societies of the past are, as is sometimes said, ‘like faraway countries’ with their deeply unfamiliar mentalities. In this discipline, crucially guarding us against anachronism, a number of specialisations (such as cultural history, history of the body, and so forth) prove most relevant when it comes to tracing dynamics and even full reversals. That being said, apart from a few monographs and edited volumes treating of the subject, most expressions of social superiority have to be found in books that deal with them only in passing. The gathering here is akin to a patient search for significant elements. We will see that art history can also be very instructive. Wavering between purely aesthetic perspectives that seek to define styles and others that apprehend art as a mirror of society, the discipline appears to be particularly fruitful when it deciphers the modalities of elitist staging. The meticulous studies of portraits (clothing choices, as well as distinguished poses and accessories) allow us to grasp the reasons for many conventions, both in and of themselves, and within representations. Sociology could justifiably be considered a mainstay. However, while its empirical contribution is undeniable, the science of society has been mainly concerned with theorising. Surveys of distinction have tended to be conducted in a deductive way, based on rigid frameworks. Given the rivalries between schools of thought, it is often more a matter of defending one’s favourite theoretical apparatus in the face of competing views than of discovering original dimensions with no preconceived ideas. In this respect, many interpretations that should be hypothetical turn out to be presuppositions. In addition, one witnesses a strong propensity for intellectualism, with investigators increasingly adopting militant postures and reducing most occurrences to explanatory factors pertaining to narrow ‘sociologism’.5 Nonetheless, lots of field researches abound with stimulating remarks and even in those books where the selected points

1 Introduction 

5

have an excessively demonstrative function, noteworthy manifestations of distinction are sometimes described. Sociological contributions must be supplemented by those of related disciplines. Thus, some socio-economic readings on consumption and marketing prove very useful. The same is true in socio-linguistics, as we shall see. Psycho-sociology, a branch that focuses on interactions between individuals or small groups, is full of sophisticated analyses that question, for instance, the emulating or destabilising effects of confrontations with people who are more or less well off than oneself. Authors at the junction of geography and sociology also produce works that enrich our understanding of the relationship to space and mobility, among others, all the more so when they are sensitive to cultural aspects. Then, bearing in mind that parallels with animal behaviour certainly have their limits, some lessons can be drawn from ethology, especially regarding indicators of primacy meant to reiterate hierarchies. Neither should one forget the political science writings examining the vectors of supremacy of those elites that can be defined as political (my other main subject). Finally, I have not hesitated to draw on fictional works and relevant studies by researchers in literature.6 Many codes of distinction are depicted therein, at times with great discernment. Some novels also revive vanished gestures. Of course, one should approach this type of text with the necessary precautions. It is indeed possible that stylistic constraints alter what is described (a phenomenon well known, for instance, in medieval manuscripts), or that the writer tends to invent and exaggerate. When reading novels teeming with notations on precious objects, ornaments and dazzling ceremonies, one sometimes wonders whether they should be regarded as a credible account of the universe in question, or as a satire? Anyway, it would be wrong to ignore the literary corpus.7

Interpretations Most of the classical thinkers of social distinction managed to construct their models after much effort of abstraction. The more abstract the analytical schemes, the more applicable they seem to be to all kinds of cases. On the other hand, when one takes a multitude of empirical studies (with

6 

J.-P. Daloz

their wealth of detail) into consideration, the mass of information gathered may look quite difficult to reconcile with theorising. However, it is possible to reason in a different way: not yielding to an almost obsessive quest for features and laws assumed to be permanent (in imitation of the ‘hard’ sciences), but aiming to identify all sorts of configurations following a perspective much more respectful of the cultural diversity of human societies. This is why what is going to be presented here differs from normative (admirative or condemnatory) essays depicting in a trivial fashion the lifestyle of ‘the rich’, as well as from the illusions of theoretical constructions with universalist pretensions. This does not mean giving up analytical ambitions. It means that any serious examination of social distinction can help bring to light a multiplicity of dissimilar scenarios. To be sure, in the chapters to come, we will encounter some trans-cultural and trans-­ historical patterns, for example in relation to the uses of verticality or distance. Nevertheless, I will also have the opportunity to point out many antithetical logics: eminence being based on extreme visibility or invisibility, playing on quality or quantity, antiquity or novelty, isolation or entourage, ostensible comfort or ascetism, and so on. What such an approach calls for is a method that gives a lot of importance to the meaning that social actors attach to their representations and practices. This is a type of ‘scientificity’ aimed not at abstract generalisation but at the interpretation of what makes sense (or not) to them. To return to one of the illustrations provided earlier, the excess fabric of the trains may certainly be viewed as an assertion of opulence in some contexts. However, a dress sweeping the ground may depreciate the person wearing it in others. When I come to the issues of ‘elitist hindrances’ (possibly compensated by the intercession of servants), ‘noble domesticity’, precedence, and disputes over who was supposed to hold the ‘tails’ of the ladies at the top of the status pyramid, we will see that the subject can be even more complex. Here I join the ‘interpretativist’ tradition advocated by Clifford Geertz in continuation of Max Weber’s ‘comprehensive’ method.8 It encourages us to truly penetrate the universes of meaning, as I will do throughout. This book is composed of seventeen thematic chapters which will, of course, bring out broad outlines, somewhat counterbalanced by the fact

1 Introduction 

7

that multiple cultural disparities will be taken into account. These chapters are divided into four parts: a first one devoted to external signs; a second one to embodied signs of distinction; a third one to vicarious display; and a final one to status-related interactions. Each will be preceded by an introduction on, respectively, the properties of prestige goods, the internalisation of superiority, the use of the entourage, and the study of direct confrontations. While it is clarifying to isolate symbolic facets in this way, they obviously often intersect. Let me add that despite the unprecedented scale and scope of this attempt at synthesis, there is no aspiration for exhaustiveness here. The intention is above all to present significant aspects of how distinction operates in various contexts.

Notes 1. One thinks of the order ‘Look at me when I am talking to you!’. 2. T. Veblen, The Theory of the Leisure Class, New York, Dover Publications, 1994 [1899]. 3. To take an illustration from a recent book, when an archaeologist examining small, enamelled iron-age pins concludes that, due to their reduced size, they could not have held clothes but that their shiny side was likely to attract attention, it enriches my comparisons around the utilitarian/ symbolic dimensions of external signs of distinction. S. Adams, ‘Personal Object and Personal Identity in the Iron Age: The Case of the Earliest Brooches’, in T.  F. Martin & R.  Weetch (eds), Dress and Society: Contributions from Archaeology, Oxford: Oxbow Books, 2017. 4. Explaining, for example, how marks of dignity among Polynesians are incomprehensible if the essential categories of mana and taboo are not included. 5. In this respect, Bourdieu’s concept of habitus, reducing perceptions and attitudes to class positions alone, is symptomatic. Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste, London: Routledge, 1984 [original version in French 1979]. This makes sociology the key discipline, but at the price of erasing intercultural differences. 6. From articles on clothing as a status indicator in Turgenev to the symbolism of cars in Steinbeck, for example. I will come back to this.

8 

J.-P. Daloz

7. Regarding relationships between sociologists and novelists, an extraordinary episode was that of the rivalry between one of the pioneers of field research on social stratification in the United States, W.  Lloyd Warner (coordinator of huge investigations, notably in the town of Newburyport) and J.P.  Marquand, a famous novelist (Pulitzer Prize winner) from the selfsame Massachusetts town. The writer claimed to understand the families of the local elite much better than did the social scientist who is bluntly portrayed in one of his fictions (Point of No Return, Boston: Little Brown and C°, 1949). 8. C. Geertz, The Interpretation of Cultures: Selected Essays, New York: Basic Books, 1973.

Part I External Signs

On Prestige Goods Of all the markers of social eminence, the possession of valuable material goods is probably the one that comes to mind first. Whether as indicators of refinement, reliability, comfort, or in view of their highly desirable rarity, these outward attributes often represent the most noticeable signals of elevated status. Rich in diversity, they offer an excellent introduction indeed to the complexities and multifaceted logics of distinction. Philosophical writings about the perpetual question of luxury in relation to the ‘real needs’ of Man set aside,1 it is to ethnology that we owe the seminal reflections on the subject. Taking their field observations as a starting point, some investigators have sought to establish lists of the most valued items. This has led to the hypothesis of a ‘subsistence goods/ prestige goods’ dichotomy: the latter being mainly used to adorn dignitaries, for rituals, or as bargaining chips. However, such a divide was quickly criticised because the boundary between the two categories was far from clear in many of the communities studied. The same applies to ‘modern’ societies, especially in times of rapid growth. Historians have pointed out that some consumer goods once considered totally inaccessible to the majority of a population could be taken for granted one or two generations later. Interest in such approaches was revived in the

10 

External Signs

1970s, again primarily thanks to anthropologists, but also archaeologists and prehistorians, all trying to understand the role that the accumulation of highly coveted items had probably played in the development of hierarchical social structures. ‘Economy of prestige goods’ models, heavily influenced by Marxist theories, were developed. They consider in which ways the monopolisation of certain raw materials, value added through processing work, ostentatious exhibition of the objects produced, and strategic barter with more or less remote communities, may have supported the emergence of inegalitarian systems. Such a materialistic reading was to be widely challenged by cultural anthropology. Pointing to serious risks of reductionism, the tenants of this latter vein of thought aim to give the importance they deserve to the logics of meaning surrounding prestigious goods.2 This leads us to view them from many different angles, whether they are ‘pure signs’ or useful artefacts, indivisible or divisible, etc. Following this kind of multidimensional reading, what I am going to propose here, as a preliminary, is a tentative inventory of the properties liable to contribute to social distinction. Let us start with some inherent dimensions. Prestige goods may be ephemeral or eminently durable, the transience of some resulting from their perishable nature. Fresh flowers constantly renewed in palaces or luxury hotels are a good illustration of a distinctive sign that plays on this criterion.3 We may also think of perfume that must be continually reapplied to the skin. Frequently, ephemerality is related to the fact that the good disappears as soon as it is consumed, the most obvious examples being, of course, food and drink (which may, however, be kept for a longer or shorter time before being ingested). A third form of limited durability concerns rental. If an individual rents a Lamborghini as well as a room at the Burj al-Arab in Dubai, these will indeed remain afterwards, but others will be enjoying them. This is a theme quite amenable to receiving sociological treatment.4 Finally, some objects are destined to be used only once (the wedding dress in many cultural contexts), or to be considered debasing because they are out of fashion, which corresponds to yet another scenario. Conversely, there are goods that are passed on from generation to generation, resulting in a kind of eternally renewed

  External Signs 

11

posterity. Here, we enter the realm of distinction through ‘patina’, with venerable wear and tear contributing to status. This brings me to a second sub-theme which is relatively similar: that of solidity versus fragility, both of which can have a distinctive character. The subject matter is more complex than it might seem, with some robust-like goods being quite vulnerable (to fire, damage, etc.), taking into account their composition or exposure. Thirdly, it is important to think in terms of heavy versus light objects. What is massive and imposing is certainly likely to impress, but it may also prove cumbersome, difficult to move or even impossible to transport. These aspects are worthy of interest in that they open up a whole field of reflection on flexibility. Light and small goods have their advantages (in case of a hasty departure, it is preferable to have jewellery than ingots). This raises a final point, again with regard to inherent properties. Even though some artifacts made of precious materials may have been admirably crafted, the question is whether the attraction to them is first and foremost related to their components. A beautiful crystal vase, if it breaks, is worthless. On the other hand, it is well known that, in the past, silverware could be melted down to finance military campaigns. This kind of duality leads to two potential types of distinction: one that is primarily sensitive to substance, and the second to other assessment logics. In the latter case, one sometimes observes a predilection for objects that have no intrinsic value but are extraordinarily prized by virtue of purely aesthetic conventions (such as certain bamboo bowls used for the tea ceremony in Japan). A completely different approach to prestige goods consists in considering their origin. They may be locally produced, the spoils of war, tributes, acquired through exchange, donation or extortion of subordinates, ordered from a supplier, and so on. An important aspect from a comparative point of view is the extent to which exotic products are very much sought after. Quite frequently, an extreme craze for what is not available at home can be detected. Anthropological research shows that in Polynesia and Central America in particular, some goods seemed all the more endowed with an aura as they were associated with mysterious horizons. The ability to acquire them presupposed having the means to organise faraway travel and to possess products attractive enough to be bartered.5 Specialists of the late prehistoric period report circulation over

12 

External Signs

astonishing distances. Exceptional goods were then appropriated by the indigenous elites, the question arising as to whether or not the imported products had vernacular equivalents. What is more, some conquerors proved to be ‘conquered by their conquests’, adopting not only a new lifestyle, but many of the objects encountered.6 However, there are also cases of systematic rejection of almost anything coming from abroad (as with some Chinese dynasties), of goods that seem to be valued only locally, as well as occurrences of deliberate alteration (perhaps with the intention of ‘neutralizing’ the foreign character of what was introduced). As early as antiquity, there have also been objects whose prestige derives from the fact that they previously belonged to famous people, leading to an impressive history meant to reflect positively on the current owner. Besides, several cities began to be identified as producers of artifacts of infinitely superior quality that could be boasted of.7 This brings us to take into account other properties of luxury goods, related to their manufacturing, their protection, maintenance and even possibilities of renovation. Some in the past have proven tremendously attractive due to the extreme difficulty of obtaining them (e.g. saffron, spondylus) or of processing them (ivory). Nowadays, faced with mass production, high-end craftsmanship firms (providing tailor-made creations and imposing long waiting lists) know full well how to exploit a new quest for excellence, scarcity and costliness paradoxically boosting demand.8 Such a perspective prompts to consider what surrounds very expensive objects. What I have in mind is notably the topic of exquisite cases and boxes aiming at intensifying the feeling of distinction, but which, undeniably, may also play a useful protective role. The issue of the periodic maintenance of particularly delicate or large materials opens up interesting avenues of research as well. Finally, one should not neglect the question of the restoration or even embellishment of prestige goods, some (such as jewellery) lending themselves better to this exercise than others. Here, the objective may be to look for real improvements, but what is primarily at stake is often a desire for restyling according to one’s taste. To talk of outward signs of superiority9 obviously implies a certain degree of visibility. This, however, is a more complicated matter than it seems intuitively. It has been recognised, since at least the writings of

  External Signs 

13

Herbert Spencer, that both exhibition and concealment can express grandeur. Keeping some possessions out of sight is likely to confer on them a kind of aura.10 The imagined presence of a house completely hidden by high walls may prove as intimidating as the villa of the magnate who had all the surrounding trees cut down in order to show if off. I would also point out that while certain categories of goods are a priori more visible than others, it is sometimes necessary to reason within them. If we take vehicles, for instance, there is quite a contrast between the convertible which allows you to see the driver as well as whoever accompanies him, and the limousine with its tinted windows. In addition, some distinctive details require close observation in order to be truly appreciated. The fineness of a fan will only be discernible within a few centimetres. Let me add that the differentiation between private and public spaces is far from always clear. Indeed, many intermediary areas escape this type of classification. For example, private garden squares in some English cities, to which only the owners of the neighbourhood had the keys, did not prevent people from spying on what was going on behind the gates. Likewise, in the past, the bedroom with its stately furnishings could be the room where important visitors were received (the standards of domestic privacy having evolved considerably over the centuries). This is why proposing analyses in terms of ‘front’ and ‘back’ stage, as Goffman notoriously did, sometimes proves to be rather unsatisfactory. Throughout this book, we will come across a number of recurring themes related to the issue of visibility: from that of privileged access (opening one’s collections only for the most eminent guests) to that of repetition entailing a sense of implantation (renting, season after season, the same box at the opera), without neglecting, of course, that of meaning—some visual messages being difficult to understand for the general public, which does not prevent them from being impressive. Among the variables that also caught my attention is the division between quantitative and qualitative demonstrations. Is it more dazzling to have an extremely large wardrobe in order to hardly ever wear the same clothes, or just a few splendid outfits made by very famous fashion designers? It goes without saying that quantity and quality are by no means incompatible. Some people enjoy cellars amply stocked with bottles of great vintages, or precious sets of tableware made up of hundreds of

14 

External Signs

pieces. Nevertheless, such a perspective invites us to shed light on different patterns: from unique objects (possibly endowed with a prestigious name) to those that are rare but reproducible (e.g. manuscripts that could be copied), or acquired in several units for practical purposes (such as those ceremonial tents that were set up in advance at the ulterior stages of an expedition). In addition, examining quantitative distinctions led me to differentiate between logics of profusion (pyramids of roasted chickens in West Africa), variety (assortment of dozens of dishes) and size. We sometimes observe astonishing attempts to outdo rivals, based on the spectacular staging of abundance, especially when dictated by the requirements of ostentatious hospitality. A recurrent way to play the card of quantitative superiority also involves proclaiming that you do not know exactly what is at your disposal (the number of rooms in your residences, for example). Although the comparative study of prestige goods does stimulate analytical and typological ambitions, it is inconceivable without seriously taking into account cultural factors. In line with what has been put forward in the general introduction, it is a matter of both arriving at clear theorisations and giving their full place to the universes of meaning. This will be my twofold concern in the next five chapters, which will deal in turn with ornaments, dwellings, vehicles, food, and burials.

Notes 1. This literature goes back to the moralising texts of antiquity and continues to be the subject of essays stigmatising luxury in the name of different ideals or, more exceptionally, advocating it. We know that the eighteenth century marked an important turning point. Authors such as Mandeville, Voltaire or Hume began to consider luxury with a benevolent eye for economic or civilisational reasons. However, there were precedents as early as the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, in a perspective of glorification of God (and his servants) or in the line of Aristotelian theses about magnificence. 2. Thus, for example, with regard to certain shells highly prized for their colours or their shimmering appearance (which could be both emblems

  External Signs 

15

of status and means of payment), we should not underestimate the symbolic richness with which they were endowed, very often in relation to a whole cosmogony. 3. Queen Alexandra (the wife of Edward VII) had the flowers of hundreds of bouquets changed every morning in her large residence next to Buckingham Palace. P. McNeil and G. Riello, Luxury: A Rich History, Oxford: Oxford UP, 2016, p. 172. 4. Possibly from the point of view of a momentary demonstration of affluence or bravado, which is in line with the theme of the synecdoche, in the sense of investment in a particular field with the hope of giving a general impression of distinction (I refer to my discussions in this regard in Rethinking Social Distinction, op.  cit., Chapter 5), but here from a temporal point of view. Some borrowing strategies follow the same pattern. 5. See especially M.W.  Helms, Ulysses’ Sails: An Ethnographic Odyssey of Power, Knowledge and Geographical Distance, Princeton: Princeton UP, 1988. 6. Romans in Greece, Abbasid Arabs in Persia, Crusaders in Palestine, the British ‘going native’ in India, etc. On this theme, cf., for example, the book by J.  Irigoyen-Garcia, ‘Moors Dressed as Moors’: Clothing, Social Distinction and Ethnicity in Early Modern Iberia (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2017), which deals with the attachment of Iberian hidalgos to the Moorish ‘game of canes’ equestrian sport, fascinated as they were by the elegant appearance of the Arab riders and their silky outfits. 7. Bronze candelabra from Corinth, for instance, or later, during the Renaissance, Milanese parade armour. 8. See M.  Ricca & R. Robins, Meta-Luxury: Brands and the Culture of Excellence, Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012. 9. The formula signis exterioribus dates back to the theologians of the Middle Ages. 10. The Principles of Sociology, vol. II/part IV: Ceremonial Institutions, London: Williams & Norgate, 1893.

2 Adornments

The term adornment has the advantage of referring not only to sumptuous clothing, but also to all kinds of accessories designed to decorate the body. It goes without saying that this flattering function, quite essential to demonstrate status or authority, is only one among all the messages likely to be communicated. Beyond the current purposes of protection and modesty, differentiation between sexes, age categories as well as assertions of ethnic identity are frequently highlighted sartorially. For instance, the Chinese civilisation disdained wool, which was considered barbaric, in favour of silk. Similarly, it matters to button one’s garment up in the right direction. Each society has its own conventions, liable to strengthen cohesion.1 With regard to the expression of social hierarchy, I would like first of all to synthesise and analyse the major logics of distinction through dress. However, following on from what has just been said in the introduction to this section on external signs, it is important to draw attention to divergent cultural codes (particularly in relation to the body, as well as phenomena of traditionalism vs. fashion). Finally, developments will be devoted to some key accessories.

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 J.-P. Daloz, Expressions of High Status, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3_2

17

18 

J.-P. Daloz

Main Modalities of Eminence Through Dress By way of introduction, let me take the example of archaic Greece. At that time, all men wore a chiton and possibly a second (rectangular) piece serving as a coat. Women wore a peplos held together by several pins and covered with a kind of veil. The differences were mainly in the quality of the fabric, its quantity, and in the overall number of garments available. Wool had the merit of keeping one warm and of being relatively waterproof, but often proved to be coarse in appearance. This was not the case with linen, which took three times longer to make. The completion of a fine decorated tunic took a year, knowing that the wife, her daughters (whose competence in this field was a source of prestige for the household) and dozens of servants could work on it. The delicacy of the patterns, the bright colours and an overabundance of fabric contributed to distinction, as did the ability to change frequently. Always showing up in the same outfit was the fate of the slave. Later, new luxurious fabrics (diaphanous, for example) would be imported from Asia Minor, increasing the possibilities of variation.2 We already have some key elements here, which require close inspection. I will start with the qualitative ones. Whether of vegetable (linen, cotton) or animal origin (wool, leather, fur, silk), clothes derive their distinctive character, to a large extent, from the attractive aspect of their texture. It is not just a question of comparing one to another (preferences having largely depended on availability, traditions and climate), but the quality of each garment. With regard to woollens, the selection of the finest fibres (both long and fine) and a manual spinning with a distaff may have led to the manufacture of outstanding fabrics during the medieval era.3 Therefore, the excellence of the product and the know-how required to make it are relevant, of course in relation to technical progress.4 It appears difficult to address this kind of topic without taking account of cleavages between cultures and of major developments. Some civilisations favour lightness whereas others prefer a relative thickness, or a combination of both. Japanese dignitaries protected themselves from the cold by multiplying layers of thin fabrics, while their Siberian neighbours wore imposing fur coats. Fur was sometimes rejected in so far as it evoked

2 Adornments 

19

animality. When this was not the case, gradations were extremely important (for example, vicuna wool already being considered finer than the llama variety among the Incas). Sumptuary laws in Europe have frequently attempted to clarify who was entitled to wear what according to rank. There have also been remarkable dynamics. Silk, which was notably reserved for liturgical adornments in the Christian world, eventually became adopted by the less warlike nobility of court societies, and then by the bourgeoisie. However, visual properties (particularly a shimmering, lustrous aspect, reinforced by inlays of gold embroidery, scintillating slats or stones) constitute a fairly recurring, but in no way universal, asset. More subtly, distinction is sometimes related to the impression of well-­ being conferred by certain silky fabrics. Next, one should not underestimate the importance of colour, especially flashy ones which were long difficult to obtain and presumed the ability to acquire very expensive ingredients. Among others, mention should be made of the murex, a mollusc, and of the cochineal: at the origin of purple (so dear to the Romans) and vermillion kermes respectively. One can equally think of the gall nut producing an intense black, highly sought after, or of the ‘woad’ (derived from various plants), subsequently replaced by the tropical indigo plant for blue. It is relevant to note that certain regions of the world had their strengths in terms of production, but also that a real enthusiasm for unusual shades could often be detected once introduced. Many societies have a clear predilection for bright colours. Nonetheless darker ones can be appreciated. Symbolic considerations inevitably lead to relativism, whether it is a question of realising that a colour particularly prized (or even monopolised) by some elites was deemed vulgar elsewhere, or that the same colour has been favoured for very different reasons. Black was predominant at the medieval court of Burgundy because it made gold jewels stand out, but it was the emblem of mourning as well. Lawyers and financiers would make extensive use of it, perceiving this colour as a means of expressing their dignity without violating sumptuary laws. The Romantic avant-garde was to elect black for yet other reasons, and it remains a guarantee of seriousness in certain professions. What long proved crucial was to display shiny colours, involving a high saturation, in sharp contrast with the dull and faded ones of the

20 

J.-P. Daloz

common people. Of course, with the advent of synthetic pigments, this is no longer an issue. Thirdly, the shape of the garment is important, even if, as we have seen concerning archaic Greece, there are contexts in which differentiation does not play out much, if at all, at this level. When this is the case, it is relevant to make a distinction between fit to the body and nice folds. The tailor-made suit confers a finished appearance. One may refer to the impeccably individualised cut that Brummell recommended as well as to the ergonomic boots of the officer compared to the standardised clodhoppers of his infantrymen. At the other end of the spectrum, one thinks of the tramp who dons everything he finds (Charlie Chaplin’s shoes). Comfort depended on certain technical advances. Historians point to the major innovation that ‘rounded armholes’ represented in the Middle Ages, and more generally to cut and sewn garments, facilitating movement. As for the quest for singular lines and ever-changing silhouettes, it is of course related to the pursuit of fashion, to be discussed later. Moreover, superior quality often relies on considerable finishing work, including the addition of all kinds of elements (edgings, laces, linings, decorative buttons, etc.) regarded as indicators of refinement. There are quantitative aspects too here. The impression of abundance does not only concern the multiplication of ancillary elements, but also the number of pieces exhibited. Poise and bearing then play on superimposition, as can be seen, for example, with certain ecclesiastical outfits. However, the question immediately arises as to the visibility of each of these parts. Clothes worn on top of one another must be substantially different in length, with those underneath deliberately protruding gradually. Alternatively, openings may be provided so that they can be discerned, or deliberate straightening is made to reveal them furtively. In this respect, I have frequently noticed, during receptions in Nigeria, that Yoruba women constantly put their loincloths back on, willingly letting their ornate petticoats glimpse through. The same is true of some Japanese kimonos, when the belt is untied to make it tighter. Of course, as far as underwear is concerned, a certain amount of eroticism can be taken into account, but in a way that is rather ambiguous because, if the gaze is thus solicited, plunging into the breach, it is to immediately come up against a second layer that continues to mask the body. If this limited emergence

2 Adornments 

21

of intimacy, may sometimes be related to intents to seduce, what is often at stake is sheer ostentation, especially when we know that women may have worn up to thirty petticoats!5 This quantitative dimension of clothing must also be understood from the point of view of a manifest excess of cloth. I have in mind the women’s tunics of antiquity with huge flaps, the wide drooping sleeves of medieval bliauts, the long trails of court societies, or the length of ceremonial saris. Any garment that spreads much more fabric than is necessary (even, for example, a very pleated skirt, all the more so one with flounces) gives an impression of superfluity and is akin to what Veblen has analysed in terms of a display of profusion. In a seated position as in motion, extra fabric is certainly likely to enhance the body by extension. However, unreasonable scale can also mar the silhouette and do it a disservice more than it shows it off to advantage. Secondly, the quantitative aspect should be understood in the sense of the number of outfits available. At stake here is the ability to vary as much as possible what one wears, according to the circumstances, and especially in the presence of the same people.6 Women in some upper circles were expected to change clothes several times a day. This obliged them to have a plethoric wardrobe at their disposal, or to be able to continually give a new look to clothes that had already been on display. Moreover, the accumulation of clothing is related to the imperative of always looking flawless, which presupposes, for example, enjoying a rotation of immaculate shirts (long a major symbol of belonging to the distinguished world among men). In the age of the washing machine and cheap ready-to-­ wear, the situation is obviously quite different. Nevertheless, in India, it is common for a high-society woman to own hundreds of saris, while for members of the lower castes, they can be counted on the fingers of one hand. Obviously, this topic should be considered in conjunction with others (from storage capacity to the service of domestic servants, to the time that must be spent on acquisition and fitting). It also leads us to consider borderline cases, such as that of outfits which are so fragile that they cannot be used more than once. What has just been mentioned is by no means exhausting the topic. A particularly noteworthy issue has to do with comfort. Highly prestigious clothes are likely to confer a sense of superiority, but many prove unwieldy.

22 

J.-P. Daloz

As we shall see in detail in the chapter on self-confidence, the challenge is to overcome this kind of elitist constraint seemingly with no effort. For instance, draped clothing has been known to cause formidable difficulties, from arranging the folds to perfection (as on statues) to adjusting them properly in public as soon as they have slipped. What is important for my point is that distinction here is less dependent on the intrinsic quality of a gown than on the ability to wear it gracefully. Tunics, especially those held in place by clamps and darts, caused fewer problems. Nevertheless, traditional clothing, such as the kimono or the sari, still need to be worn elegantly if distinction is to be sought. In the same vein, there would be a lot to be said about certain costumes related to posture and gestures. Many do contribute to magnifying the latter (e.g. waving one’s sleeves in a dramatic way), to create an impression of heroic dynamism (the cape flying off) or stature (the heavy velvet brocade coat reaching down to the ground). Finally, possible sound effects, such as those produced by various fabrics, bracelets or ankle rings, should not be neglected.

On Codes and Lived Experiences The various modalities identified and discussed above certainly provide a suitable basis for analysing distinctive attire. However, they must be supplemented by a full consideration of the remarkably heterogeneous universes of meaning being implicated more often than not. Ethnology and cultural history are particularly enlightening in this regard. A good way of introducing a bit of relativism is to recall that, in the past, nudity was not necessarily synonymous with inferior status. The absence of clothing has frequently been (very ethnocentrically) reduced to a sign of savagery, as was ignorance of writing. The conquistadors were astonished to find tribes living almost naked in icy regions at the south of the American continent. From a comparative perspective, it is important to understand that in some contexts social eminence is much more based on bodily markings (tattoos, deformations, etc.) than on textiles possibly covering them. Similarly, rags can be viewed as more demeaning than exposed skin. Let us not forget that modesty is a purely cultural feeling

2 Adornments 

23

(non-existent in animals or very young children) and that ancient Greece saw in the exhibition of the (male) body a sign of civilisation, as opposed to the concealment thereof characteristic of the barbarians who were perpetually clothed.7 On the other hand, there are many societies in which not only is clothing indispensable, but where the interest in the material world of fabrics verges on the obsessional. I particularly have in mind here the cases of the Incas and of the Ottomans. Generally speaking, the consideration of a large number of settings leads us to realise the wide range of what is liable to be expressed through clothing in relation to social hierarchy. First of all, it should be pointed out that some garments are perceived as having very profound symbolic properties. They can be presumed to be the repositories of a true spiritual essence, and even capable of conferring supernatural faculties. As a result, they often play a central role during ceremonies (certain ones, imbued with a mythical past, being part of an inalienable treasure, e.g. in Samoa), but also as key components within systems of exchange, strategic redistribution, or as rewards coveted by very deserving subjects (such as the most valiant Aztec warriors). When studying rituals, one comes across contradictory codes: donning one’s best finery when visiting the sovereign, or presenting oneself to him wearing humble clothes. If one does not make the effort to seriously penetrate the cultural universes concerned, for example to grasp all that a turban can mean in India or the extreme bias against foot impurity in Japan, certain behaviours or interactions remain incomprehensible. This has led to many misunderstandings around the world. Missionaries in Oceania were happy to see how quickly the natives adopted Western clothing, being unaware that the goal of doing so was to appropriate the ‘mana’ of the white people. In India, the British colonisers found it difficult to accept that while highcaste married women were supposed to wear their sari over a bodice, and middle-class women at least covered their breasts with it, low-caste ones often had to leave theirs exposed. Requiring the same attire in the name of decency would lead to serious reactions, as the local people thus lost a major clue as to the status of others.8 This prompts me to point out that, among all the possible ways of approaching the subject, one of the most stimulating is to take into

24 

J.-P. Daloz

account the relationship between dress and the body. A chapter will be devoted to physical appearance, but at this stage the question is whether the aim of clothing is to highlight the anatomy or to conceal it. If it is buried under the folds of fabric, distinctiveness will then rest entirely on the finery itself. In fact, a whole range of tricks can be spotted. The attire may perfectly follow the curves of the body or modify them, reveal some parts, hide others, but sometimes considerably accentuate its lines. Quite evidently, the aim will often be to hide bodily imperfections while emphasising what is flattering. Nevertheless, this kind of individualised concern has not always made sense, assuming as it does a very ‘modern’ degree of self-awareness. It often proves important to reason more holistically, based on what a clothing tradition implies (for example, the sari reveals the waist). We might also call upon the famous thesis of the ‘shifting of erogenous zones’ here. In some contexts, a certain part of the body which has been hidden from view for centuries was suddenly publicly exhibited for a while, before eventually losing its attractiveness through routinely being shown. However, it could be replaced by others.9 Besides, one sometimes comes across extremely ambivalent arrangements. If the precious jewel focusing attention on the pretty bosom, and vice versa, does not pose a great problem of interpretation, how should we apprehend the combination of the scandalously daring neckline and the scarf partially counterbalancing this audacity? Similarly, if the vaporous neoclassical dresses were said to be moistened so as to adhere as much as possible to the female contours and to favour transparency, should the bulging skirts of the rest of the nineteenth century be understood as aiming to erase anatomy (wrapped in a homogeneous whole) or to confer an imposing stature on women in the upper echelons? There is no doubt that the elitist quest for height (hence the heels, top hats, etc.), deployment, or even lateral extension (cf. The Meninas by Velázquez), has long been evident in many societies. The point is to give an impression of increased volume, of omnipotent occupation of space in order to signify one’s ascendancy. Think of the ceremonial mantle of sovereigns in majesty covering the steps at the foot of thrones. However, it is important once again to question lived experiences and to take cultural divides into account. I gave this example in the general introduction

2 Adornments 

25

because the illustration is particularly striking: while in many European courts it was expected that skirts would touch the ground, and while those that stopped slightly higher or curled up somewhat defined the working woman, the opposite was true in Ming China. We are dealing here with totally contradictory logics, but which each have their raison d’être. In Venice, around the same time, it is well known that women were happy to wear platform shoes with incredible cork soles (up to 20 inches tall!) completely hidden under their dress. This meant that the latter had to be lengthened and consequently that more expensive fabric had to be used.10 We clearly have a combination of distinction through both quantitative and qualitative dimensions. In the Far East, on the other hand, clothing that trails is generally considered soiled. As I have emphasised, the Chinese widow was provisionally condemned to give up any hem during the period of mourning, precisely because she was not to appear desirable. In Japan, it is essential that the bottoms of kimonos be kept away from any soiling. Here, social distinction is culturally related to purity. We saw that a slight rise in the hems of dresses had also sometimes corresponded to a wish for unveiling. This was notably the aim of the so-­ called ‘Polish style’, in vogue in Versailles in the 1780s, which allowed rich petticoats, luxurious pumps and even seductive ankles to be displayed according to the above-mentioned logic of eroticisation. Trailing dresses would obviously have made such an exhibition impossible, although it seems that the famous curved ends of medieval ‘poulaine shoes’ could have satisfied it. This brings us to the crucial issue of fashion. From a comparative point of view, we know that this was originally a European phenomenon, having developed in court circles from the end of the medieval period. This does not mean that no change in dress would be noticeable in those societies that Lévi-Strauss described as ‘cold’ (i.e. attaching an extreme importance to tradition). For example, one can undeniably discern changes in China, from one dynasty to the next, the establishment of new styles indeed symbolising political ruptures. Nevertheless, it appears that the introduction of fashion, in the sense of an extremely rapid renewal of conventions, was initially rather circumscribed in time and space. Many explanations have been sought for this. One of the most common is linked to the singular process of ‘Western’ modernisation, supposed to

26 

J.-P. Daloz

call for a continual escalation. More in line with what concerns us here, it seems highly plausible that the concentration of elites at the end of the feudal era encouraged an endless pursuit of status affirmation prompting the display of unexpected outfits with the aim of attracting attention. It is interesting to note that the key Veblenian concept of ‘conspicuous consumption’ has been widely taken up by historians in relation to this frenetic quest for novelty, although it was forged with respect to what he saw in the United States during the Gilded Age. The question of the date of origin of the consumer society continues to divide experts, who trace it as far back as the Renaissance, the eighteenth century or the next. But in fact, it all depends on the extent to which one takes into consideration the aristocratic and more generally elitist circles (including the upper bourgeoisie), the middle classes, or the bulk of the population.11 In any case, what matters for the study of social distinction is that the gradual extension to new groups has tended to galvanise emulation and the adoption by the lower strata of the fashions in use at the top. The result was a cascading phenomenon, according to the so-called ‘trickle-­ down’ model that several of the founding fathers of sociology have analysed. In short, the argument is that since the latest clothing fashions are sooner or later copied by the subordinate classes, members of the upper ones have no choice but to always stay one step ahead, which would stimulate the production and consumption of increasingly ephemeral novelties. Those familiar with the relevant literature, however, note some discrepancies. For a majority of authors, the initiative certainly belongs to the dominant strata. Yet, Simmel, drawing from his observations in Berlin at the end of the nineteenth century, argues that it was rather social actors not quite at the top of the hierarchy who were wont to launch novelties (women of the demi-monde, for example), whereas the established elites were wary of taking risks, cautiously waiting to find out to what extent a daring fashion would be considered ridiculous or acceptable. It should be added that, today, variations concern the male sphere less and less, as men increasingly stick to tried-and-tested types deemed ‘timeless’. I am thinking in particular of a certain English lineage of solid, well-cut, but relatively sober clothes, and more generally of what could be called a ‘bourgeois’ style, aiming at respectability and discretion. This is in line with the famous thesis of the ‘great masculine renunciation’,12

2 Adornments 

27

according to which the dress parade would henceforth be rather devolved to wives, or even mistresses and children. This will be discussed at length in a later chapter, when I address the issue of distinction through the family circle and with lady friends. The social diffusion of fashions from top to bottom raises many questions. For example, in some areas, since the capacity for innovation is limited, one wonders what happens when a practice becomes so widespread that it loses all distinctive properties, leaving no real alternative. Thus, when wearing gloves became quite common in the early nineteenth century, aristocrats had no choice but to declare that it was appropriate to go bare-handed or to sport odd colours.13 It can be argued that the rallying to the latest styles, sometimes bordering on obsession, can only make sense within ‘modern’ societies. Whereas in ‘traditional’ settings, tolerating at best mere involutions (i.e. minor modifications, not really calling consecrated canons into question), it would be utterly irrelevant. The same is largely true for those contemporary contexts that can be described as ‘postmodern’. We are indeed witnessing such a proliferation of divergent codes, eclectic combinations, sudden resurgence of old fashions, borrowings from all directions, but also such a thirst for personal touches, that the collective waves, if they still exist at all, have little symbolic weight or are reduced to marketing arguments.14 One of the most astonishing aspects of current trends is the development of reverse ‘trickle-up’ phenomena, an expression referring to the adoption by the dominant categories of clothing associated with the working classes, like blue jeans (sometimes deliberately worn and torn), overalls, turtlenecks, straw hats, etc. I have shown that such a reversal posed a problem for schools of thought that had developed grand theories with regard to earlier configurations, but how they quickly tried to put forward explanations compatible with their postulates.15 Nevertheless, rather than imperatively seeking to ‘save’ the classical models of interpretation (generally for dogmatic reasons), it is relevant to consider new logics of distinction in dress. In India, for example, they may consist in wearing so-called ‘ethnic chic’ clothes inspired by all sorts of local styles, but chosen according to aesthetic criteria, without reference to any regional identity. This is all the more the case when this type of outfit is

28 

J.-P. Daloz

bought in Paris, New  York, or by women of other nationalities when travelling in South Asia. The advantage in the eyes of members of the Indian upper class is, it seems, to stand out from the mass of natives who stick to the Sari, without resorting to European clothing reminiscent of the colonial era. In the most affluent circles, it is even possible to acquire unique pieces, made by haute couture houses in collaboration with artists, with the guarantee that they will only be produced in single copies (which of course will be mentioned).16 However, when it comes to clothing, it is important not to think exclusively in terms of sociological patterns. The specialist who takes a close interest in this theme ends up acquiring a fairly precise knowledge of the successive styles within Western societies. Regarding social distinction practices, we find, broadly speaking, the modalities that I summarised at the beginning of the chapter. Nevertheless, it is important to go further than such general remarks and to look at the dynamics that can be identified in connection with profound changes of mentality. There are several possible approaches here. A first option consists in relating the dynamics of clothing with the cultural horizon of an entire era. Thus, the unprecedented break of the fourteenth/fifteenth centuries, marked by a sudden refinement (with dresses that could include a good dozen elements), a strong inventiveness (e.g. spectacular headdresses) and endless transformations, including with respect to male attire (very short tunics, legs covered with tight hose, etc.), can be brought together with the ‘rediscovery’ of the body, freed from the disdain with which the Middle Ages had laden it in favour of the soul. Even if the exercise is far from being always entirely convincing, it is tempting to establish connections between certain styles of clothing and major artistic currents. Witness the case of Mannerism, for instance, with its exaggerated forms (reflected, among other things, regarding dress, by oversized sleeves or ruffs), its total rejection of emptiness (the slightest surface of fabric being decorated), its penchant for esoteric messages and provocation (the famously prominent codpieces).17 Another, potentially more fruitful, perspective is to try and grasp the mental representations of the elites and what is at stake in terms of image through certain developments. Fashion in ‘modern’ societies should not be understood simply as a random litany of styles, a quest for versatility

2 Adornments 

29

for its own sake. It is important to penetrate the logic of this or that innovation, and also to realise that while the predominant actors, or those who serve them in this respect (merchants, craftsmen, milliners, and later fashion designers), can show undeniable creativity, they often prove to be dependent on repertoires that are as much constraints as resources. Moreover, it cannot be ignored that some major developments have been a result of relatively fortuitous circumstances. A princess, wanting to conceal her pregnancy and a king his incipient baldness, would be the cause of the basket dress and the periwig respectively. Their court adopted the new fashion as a sign of solidarity and the new style was then to spread out, notably through inter-dynastic marriages. Nevertheless, one can legitimately wonder why these novelties ended up being accepted at the top for a while, with a strong resonance in the social imaginary. It is also important to enquire about the causes of decline. How can we explain that the wig diminished in volume to such an extent in the eighteenth century before disappearing completely? Sometimes, political readings appear plausible. One thinks of the exacerbated symbolic rivalries between royalists and puritanical parliamentarians during the first English revolution, or those between aristocrats and sans-culottes in France, for example. These were indeed attempts at radical change, but followed by extremely strong reactions (consider the ostentatious styles of the Restoration in England, of that of the muscadins and the merveilleuses at the time of the Directoire in France). Still, it is often relevant to examine what is being expressed in much greater depth (whether or not the elites concerned are aware of it). It was rightly pointed out, for instance, that wide skirts could be seen as a kind of pedestal, hindering movement but giving solemnity: somewhat like a flared support intended to highlight the bust (the stem) and the face (the flower), to use a metaphor favoured by several nineteenth-century writers. It is conceivable in this respect to back up fairly convincing analyses, in terms of ‘triangular geometry’ (double and inverted in the case of waist constriction),18 of the ‘quest for balance through opposite effects’ that neutralise each other, but also through ornamental ribbons attenuating the impression of hieraticism. Besides, one may also reflect on ‘liberation phases’ marked by a relative lightening and a search for ease (still hesitant

30 

J.-P. Daloz

at the beginning of the seventeenth century, sometimes clearer during the following ones). Equally worth considering are the following: the intrusion of foreign models (which used to be a problem already during antiquity, and again during the Crusades, as far as ‘oriental’ luxury was concerned), competition not only within the courts but between them, the borrowing of male attributes by women (e.g. the feather-adorned hat), the rejection or not of the reverse (like the adoption by men of long clothes and of certain fabrics with feminine connotations), without neglecting the provisions of sumptuary laws.19

Accessories In the same way, one should not to be too succinct when it comes to the accessories that complete adornment. It is possible to see jewellery, canes, fans, umbrellas or watches as merely superfluous ornaments and to go no further than explanations in terms of ‘redundancy of signs’. Quite often, however, it is essential to realise that they may be invested with meanings which, far from reducing them to mere additional elements, give them an undeniable symbolic importance. If we rely on what prehistorians teach us about this kind of emblems since the Paleolithic era, it appears that concerns of distinction are highly probable but that other dimensions (e.g. prophylactic or linked to sacredness and the relationship with spirits) are not to be ruled out.20 The excavation of tombs (NB: a chapter will be devoted to burials) raises interesting questions in this respect. For example, are ornaments equally distributed over various parts of the body or concentrated in certain areas, such as the head? Are bracelets, pendants, earrings found on most of the remains or a few ones only, thus hinting that they might have been monopolised by an elite? Do we discover differences in types from one group to another (e.g. the Celtic torcs in contrast to the belt buckles of the Teutons)? I would add that, while these prestigious goods may indeed be ‘pure signs’, they are sometimes useful objects (weapons, for instance), albeit potentially ostentatious ones.

2 Adornments 

31

Jewels, because of their lustre and presumed high value, often constitute an essential part of adornment. Approaching the subject from a comparative perspective leads us to identify very different configurations and meanings. First, what about the importance attached to them? Do they only play an auxiliary role? It is known that in Rome, for example, they occupied a much more prominent place than clothing, in view of the messages they could communicate (the gold ring was once the prerogative of senators). Secondly, it is not insignificant to note clear cultural differences when it comes to precious metals as well as the most prized gems, often in connection with superstitious beliefs. I am thinking here of the Chinese fascination with jade (so hard and perfectly smooth when polished), referring to immortality and long considered more valuable than gold. On the other hand, let us remember the sacred nature of the latter for the Incas, in so far as it represented the Sun and the emperor (its ‘son’), making it the major vector of retribution of the vassals, although it had no market value in itself. A little further north, within the Mesoamerican area, it was turquoise (supposed to retain the ‘fires from the sky’) which stood at the top of the hierarchy, especially for the Aztecs. In the context of ‘modern’ societies, it is instructive to reason in terms of fashions as well. Among other possible illustrations, one can mention the fact that ornaments composed of very colourful stones surrounded by gold, once favoured during the Renaissance, were supplanted by diamonds, generally colourless but incomparably brilliant, and featuring one piece only (named ‘solitaire’). Around the same period, the craze for black pearls (seen as more precious), and then for those that were finely golden, or in the shape of tears, provide excellent examples of the quest for distinction through novelty. A striking case of cross-cultural cleavage concerns the Indians’ predilection for the largest possible gems, while the British settlers sought above all a superior lustre (which implied substantial cutting, thus considerably reducing the size of certain stones, which was to deeply shock some maharajas). Analytically speaking, the study of jewellery proves most fruitful. In fact, it brings together many of the recurrent themes listed above with regard to prestige goods: from that of renowned provenance to those of hoarding, transformation, beautiful containers (caskets and luxurious furniture with multiple compartments), quantitative and qualitative

32 

J.-P. Daloz

dimensions. Signals of high status are sometimes linked to the simultaneous display of precious stones on various parts of the body, embedded in clothing, hats, bags, attributes of power and even personal objects used in public (such as combs, or in the past, snuff boxes). Attempts to surpass rivals have been frequently observed (e.g. a triple row of pearls) and there have been memorable episodes of women bending under the weight of their jewellery. This has given rise to sarcastic remarks and it is certainly more appropriate in some contexts to exhibit only one or two valuable stones, which nevertheless raises the usual question of the competence of spectators. Moreover, conventions may dictate the conduct. The diadem (surrounding the entire head) reserved for royalty and the tiara (semicircular) for the British aristocracy, are, in principle, never worn at home. However, when wealthy American elites began to buy them out or have some executed by famous jewellery houses, these rules became obsolete. From time to time, the dress codes of a particular ball, in upscale places like Palm Beach, require the tiara (which can be rented). More commonly, one comes across shrewd ways of highlighting one’s assets (the sleeves of the blouse being rolled up to let the bracelets appear, the hair styled back so that the earrings are clearly visible) or attempts at originality (e.g. a ring at the tip of the thumb). Another captivating theme is the endless restructuring of jewellery and its circulation according to the whims of inheritance, marriage strategies or the arrival of hard times. Progress in goldsmithing has made it possible over the last few centuries to give a new look to the hardest stones and to insert them in completely different settings. As a result, even close relatives and friends might not always know whether what they see is a new piece of jewellery or a recycled item. Transformations are often carried out during ‘transitional processes’ (generational or otherwise). It should also be noted that some wives or young girls to be married wear jewellery that symbolises the greatness of their family without it ever fully belonging to them.21 I shall return to these aspects when I deal with the subject of spouses or partners as depositaries of distinctive signs. Beyond the emblematic case of jewellery, it would be easy to refer to many elements liable to contribute to adornment. I shall confine myself to mentioning a few of them, the aim here being not enumeration but reflections in relation to the affirmation of status. At the periphery of the

2 Adornments 

33

garment there are a number of accessories worthy of attention, such as belts. Just like the ruff or the bow tie that horizontally underline the head, they can obviously play an aesthetic role in subdividing the body. The tightening at the waist allows one to avoid an impression of excessive homogeneity, which used to characterise the straight medieval chasubles, for example. However, when one considers the subject since the Neolithic period, other themes appear, that of the level of sumptuousness of the belt to begin with. There is quite a gap between, say, the ones worn by the Franciscan Order of the Cordeliers, symbolically reduced to the bare minimum, and some of remarkable splendour, serving moreover as a support for objects (purses, mirrors and fans, in particular) themselves signs of opulence. Furthermore, one must not overlook the way of wearing the belt: i.e. tight or on the contrary somewhat loose, which would rather connote a bon vivant’s ease (that of the reveller, or even the debauched individual). Both Maecenas and Julius Caesar were blamed for leaving theirs insufficiently snug. There are accessories such as the tie of the Romantic era, where distinction was a matter of complex intricacies (George Brummell could spend whole mornings adjusting his, assisted by a servant). The study of hats, and more generally of everything that contributes to the covering of the head, introduces us to a rich and diverse topic liable to be approached from many different perspectives. In addition to certain self-evident principles (height increase and ornamentation), it is relevant to consider them in relation to the hair. Do they serve to enhance the hairstyle (what recalls the question of the connection between the body and adornment) or do they predominate? Are they relinquished in the summer? Taking an interest in gloves notably leads to realising the importance of tailor-made items, knowing that a fit which is not perfect allows wrinkles to appear on leather models. We can also ponder over the dialectic of what is shown and what is hidden (Elizabeth I, who owned more than two thousand pairs, liked to remove them in public in order to draw attention to her fine hands), as well as logics of specialisation (from elegant driving gloves with perforations to formal ‘opera’ ones covering the forearm). Shoes, for their part, encourage students of social distinction to think in terms of delicacy, comfort and even elitist constraints,22 not unrelated

34 

J.-P. Daloz

to issues of quality/quantity (e.g. the requirement to have many pairs of pumps due to their fragility), but they bring us to take into account rather singular aspects. I have in mind both the removability of buckles in the eighteenth century (sometimes in gold, silver, or enhanced with precious stones) and the practice of putting on protections whose very presence implied the value of what they were hiding, hence the status of those who wore them. This is an unusual variation on the theme of the case previously mentioned. Besides, the configuration of the seams, of decorative perforations, of the laces defining the more or less ‘smart’ male models (oxford, derby, blucher, etc.), in relation to occasions where they are supposed to be worn with appropriate outfits, represents a nice combination of distinctive codes. Another category of accessories is that of objects such as fans, umbrellas and canes, intentionally matching the clothing and helping one to have a more impressive appearance. They may prove useful, respectively allowing one to cool oneself, to take shelter from the sun or to lean. I will come back to this in some detail from a cultural perspective when I approach the question of ostensible comfort. However, it can be considered that they contribute above all to giving oneself an air of composure. Veblen interprets the cane as a substitute for the ancient sword, of which they would be the euphemistic form, and also as a way of occupying hands that would not deign to devote themselves to manual tasks, thus signifying that one indeed belongs to the ‘leisure class’. The same applies from a feminine point of view, when parasols or fans are folded up and yet held gracefully. These kinds of objects are perceived as ornaments because of their degree of preciousness. They often used to display luxurious materials: ebony, ivory, mother-of-pearl, jade, to which silk or exotic bird feathers could be added, not to mention artistic refinements (carved animal heads or delicate hand paintings). The observation of behaviour in relation to these props is extremely instructive, and it is one of those areas where novels of the past invite us to rediscover forgotten gestures. I am thinking, for example, of the multiple ways of handling your cane, consciously grasping it by ‘the stick’ when you sit down to better allow viewers to admire the details of the handle (which recalls the importance that one could give to the superb pommel, the hilt of the sword or the dagger, the visible elements

2 Adornments 

35

protruding from the sheath). Likewise, it is well known that a whole conventional language has been developed about the way to present one’s fan, or even one’s parasol. This was to occupy a great part of the thoughts of ladies and gentlemen, in relation to flirting, following codifications fully explained in widely translated books. Moreover, these three accessories can also be seen as a defence, almost as an extra garment with respect to the fan and the parasol. As a matter of fact, both make it possible to mask incipient blushing or not to encounter the gaze of others. Venturing into comparative considerations leads one to question whether or not these types of objects were widespread. It appears that the fan was used in the Far East even by peasants (obviously in a rudimentary form), whereas it was an elitist instrument in Europe. As for the umbrella, which was long shunned in the upper echelons of society, it has finally earned a certain respectability, particularly in its most elegant English variant: tapered in shape with a bamboo handle, the owner’s name engraved on a golden ring and a thin silk cover. The race for distinction also involved the adoption of various gadgets (from the cigarette lighter to a flashlight incorporated in the umbrella). The universe of watches, some of which can reach astronomical prices ($750,000 for a Franck Muller), not because they are full of diamonds but because they are often surprisingly innovative, is part of the same unbridled quest for originality.23

Notes 1. So said in passing, we are dealing here with collective distinctions from foreigners. This is a much-neglected theme in the literature, which focuses much more readily on the symbolic differences between classes. On this point, I refer to my book, Rethinking Social Distinction, op. cit. (Chap. 3). 2. I rely primarily on H. van Wees, ‘Trailing Tunics and Sheepskin Coats: Dress and Status in Early Greece,’ in L. Cleland et al. (eds.), The Clothed Body in the Ancient World, Oxford: Oxbow Books, 2005 (Chap. 5). 3. F. Piponnier & P. Mane, Se vêtir au Moyen Âge, Paris: Adam Biro, 1995.

36 

J.-P. Daloz

4. I have particularly in mind the improvement of looms in the eleventh century, making it possible to manufacture large pieces of cloth or complex patterns. 5. P. Storm, Functions of Dress: Tool of Culture and the Individual, Englewood Cliffs: Prentice Hall, 1987, p. 150. 6. This can be an incentive to keep accurate records. In his novel Crazy Rich Asians, London: Corvus, 2014, which sometimes borders on caricature but abounds with descriptions of the distinguishing strategies of Asian elites in various countries, K. Kwan depicts a contemporary wardrobe with a camera that records whatever was worn at a particular date by the owner (pp. 60 ff.). 7. This is obviously linked to a cult of physical beauty, that of the beautiful young man, the athlete, even the citizen-soldier who proved his courage by fighting without any protection. 8. K.  Hansen, ‘The World in Dress: Anthropological Perspectives on Clothing, Fashion and Culture’, Annual Review of Anthropology, vol. 33 (2004), pp. 369–392; V. Bahl, ‘Shifting Boundaries of “Nativity” and “Modernity” in South Asian Women’s Clothes’, Dialectical Anthropology, 29 (2005), pp. 85–121. 9. J. Laver, Modesty in Dress: An Inquiry into the Fundamentals of Fashion, London: Heinemann, 1969. 10. This topic of ‘chopines’ is addressed in many books. See, for example, M.G. Muzzarelli, ‘Sumptuous Shoes: Making and Wearing in Medieval Italy’, in G. Riello & P. McNeil (eds), Shoes: A History from Sandals to Sneakers, Oxford: Berg, 2006, p. 67. High heels (originally intended to keep the foot in the stirrups) have of course long concerned men as well. 11. Obviously, this leads to the consideration of what is available. In North America, for instance, apart from some opportunities for recycling, the clothes of the whole family have been durably made in the domestic sphere by women with little more than a pair of scissors, a few needles and an iron. The advent of ready-to-wear clothing, the possibility of ordering in catalogues and specialised boutiques, was to revolutionize the relationship to clothing in a period of strong technical progress. Cf. C.B. Kidwell & M.C. Christman, Suiting Everyone: The Democratization of Clothing in America, Washington: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1974. 12. J.C. Flügel, The Psychology of Clothes, London: Hogarth Press, 1930.

2 Adornments 

37

13. Our period proves much more imaginative, with double pairs worn one on top of the other, gloves on one hand only, mittens revealing certain phalanxes, etc. 14. I will not return here to the issue of trademarks, which I have already dealt with at length, but there is much to be said on the subject, for ­example with regard to handbags: from the dreaded waiting lists for the most coveted models to accessories that are relatively affordable for the general public, not forgetting the issue of counterfeits. 15. Followers of Bourdieu reduce the issue to an essentially recreational and temporary phenomenon, with no consequences for the social image. Postmodernists see in it, on the contrary, the symptom of the emergence of completely anarchic conventions, and still others a clear trend towards the democratisation of clothing. Cf. Rethinking Social Distinction, op. cit., pp. 77 ff. 16. Cf. E. Tarlo, Clothing Matters: Dress and Identity in India, London: Hurst, 1996 (chapter entitled ‘Dressing for distinction’). 17. But one could just as well evoke the Baroque, the Rococo (imbued with fantasy, curvilinear or asymmetrical motifs), the Neoclassical (very light) and Romanticism (obviously more frenzied). In this sense, cf. G. Squire, Dress, Art and Society 1560–1970, London: Studio Vista, 1974. It should be noted that links could also be established between the ancient architectural orders and the evolution of clothing (the Doric style being of course much more simple, in a Lacedemonian way, compared to those of the Ionian and Corinthian phases). 18. G. Vigarello, La robe. Une histoire culturelle du Moyen Âge à aujourd’hui, Paris: Le Seuil, 2017. 19. On this last subject, several monographs could be mentioned. Cf., for example, C.  Kovesi Killerby, Sumptuary Law in Italy 1200–1500, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2002; M.  Hayward, Rich Apparel: Clothing and the Law in Henry VIII’s England, Farnham: Ashgate, 2009. In The Sociology of Elite Distinction, I attempted a synthesis aiming to highlight the existence of serious divergences across civilisations and periods. With regard to finery, this concerns not only the type of fabric and fur that one was entitled to wear according to status, but also the number of outfits that could be made each year or what could be worn on the occasion of a single event. 20. Cf. Y. Taborin, Langage sans parole. La parure aux temps préhistoriques, Paris: La maison des roches, 2004; (Collective), Signes de richesse.

38 

J.-P. Daloz

Inégalités au néolithique, Lyon: Musée des Confluences, 2015. This is corroborated by many ethnological studies. For example, see A. & M. Strathern, Self-­Decoration on Mount Hagen (London: Duckworth, 1971) on New Guinea. 21. Interesting developments in this regard can be found in H. Greig, The Beau Monde: Fashionable Society in Georgian England, Oxford: Oxford UP, 2013. There are also places where women wear clothing covered with gold or silver coins, as in the Bedouin world or in Panama. 22. Let me add that the elites are less likely to walk than ordinary mortals and therefore more prone to endure shoes meant to ‘show off’. Without going as far as the extreme case of the traditional bandages of Chinese girls, the European aristocracy has long favoured excessively small footwear, shaping arched feet (in contrast to ‘flat-footed’ ordinary people) and contributing to the development of a different gait. 23. Such as the one called ‘Crazy hours’ where the numbers 1 to 12 are not in the right order. We are not far from the configuration described by classical anthropology of the native seeking to appropriate an artefact whose functionality he does not understand. From a distinction point of view, however, the question arises as to the extent to which such accessories are recognised and their market value known.

3 Residences

Since the Neolithic period and the settling process, dwellings have often played a major role in expressing social hierarchies. Admittedly, ethnologists and other specialists point out that developments in this regard were very slow and that in many small communities, what was first involved was rather the symbolisation of unity, that of a clan for example.1 However, even in the case of a shared roof or that of identical huts (like the famous longhouses of Borneo accommodating hundreds of people and South African kraals respectively), positioning at one end or in the centre could express predominance. It is also questionable to what extent the building of impressive ramparts was meant first and foremost to protect a group or to assert the power of the local lord. The notion of ‘house’, referring both to the castle and to the dynasty, clearly reflects such ambiguity. As with other external signs and indeed all modalities of eminence, residence must be viewed in the light of major disparities.2 A comparative approach prompts the identification of key vectors of distinction depending on the cultural context and to reason in terms of sub-categories. This leads to the realisation that the size of surrounding landed property sometimes plays a much more decisive role than the scale or architecture of the house; that living in the most famous residential area of a city may be the © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 J.-P. Daloz, Expressions of High Status, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3_3

39

40 

J.-P. Daloz

essential criterion (even in a small flat); that the façade and the gate are either crucial or secondary; that very often the interior matters above all, and so forth.

Buildings Before turning to the question of the location and that of the ‘inside’, it is appropriate to start with buildings. The founding analyses on the subject by archaeologists and anthropologists frequently turn out to be quite deterministic. They tend to focus on the materials available and on climate. Reflections have also been proposed on the form of dwellings. Round or square structures would be indicators of equality, unlike rectangular ones. Walls and partitions would divide and block out, while open spaces would allow visibility and social control. Nevertheless, the generalising theories that some authors have tried to put forward have been easily demolished.3 The same is true of the advent of monumental buildings (palaces, temples or tombs) in Egypt, Mesopotamia, South-­ East Asia and Mexico, which were quickly interpreted as the mark of all-powerful politico-religious classes. Likewise, on the symbolic level, we would be dealing either with the model of the time-defying mountain or that of pyramids linking earth to heaven. The cosmological representations of those civilisations were so far apart, though! To be sure, the size of buildings is more often than not proportional to status or to the official position occupied. Once again, however, it is a matter of judging this less in absolute terms than with respect to other neighbouring constructions. The quest for distinction may also lead to the importation of raw materials from far away. I am thinking in particular of marble under the Roman Empire, whose elites sought to take over the most famous quarries in North Africa and Asia Minor. They thereby demonstrated their influence, including in those remote areas. The huge difficulties involved in the transport of such heavy and fragile blocks were most likely to impress. Aesthetic elements could be taken into consideration, with one fashion following another: favouring ‘pure’, or ‘veined’ types, or marble with rare colours. Similar logics can be found in relation to exotic woods, or even slates replacing local tiles.4

3 Residences 

41

If we look closely at certain aspects, many specificities arise. In Mesopotamia, for example, the name of the ruler had to appear on every brick, whereas in the Inca Empire the crucial dimension was the impeccable fit of the cut stones. In Japan, in view of the damages repeatedly caused by typhoons and earthquakes, it seems that houses were never really expected to last. To take yet other illustrations, the norm could be that the palace of a defeated enemy should be appropriated, or alternatively razed to the ground, and possibly rebuilt, or that each heir of a dynasty should have his own erected. Especially when it comes to architecture, it is important to understand local codes, to wonder what is liable to strike the mind and what are the intended effects.5 In the Middle East, where flat roofs have long been the norm, usually serving as a terrace, sloping ones have been deemed ostentatious. In contrast to snowy regions where they certainly make sense, they are open to Veblen-style interpretations in terms of ‘conspicuous waste’. The same applies to the endless addition of gables, such as those introduced by the Dutch in South Africa with clearly distinctive aims. Historical reflections on transformations from century to century also prove most instructive. In his book on the refinement process in the United States, Richard Bushman describes many evolutions. He highlights how austere and uncomfortable the pioneers’ dwellings had been until a first floor was considered necessary, followed by all sorts of improvements and developments linked to the emergence of new materials, and finally to the intervention of architects.6 Then came the era of castles on New  York’s Fifth Avenue (sometimes inspired by French Renaissance ones) and that of Newport mansions.7 Nowadays, penthouses and triplexes allow elites to dominate the world and to distance themselves from various kinds of nuisances. It is an easy task for some authors to make recurring comments on the symbolism of verticality, whether their goal is to insist on the exceptional view from the top of residential towers, the impression of living in another, very well protected universe, or on what average pedestrians feel when they raise their head towards these inaccessible summits.8

42 

J.-P. Daloz

However, the researcher sensitive to cultural cleavages cannot remain content with such generalising principles and it is essential to consider all sorts of local modalities. I could refer here, for instance, to the fact that in ancient Dahomey, building an extra storey was a privilege granted by the king as a reward. To take another illustration, in Cambodia and Burma, houses used to have only one (ground) floor because it was judged dishonourable to be ‘under the soles of others’. Moreover, it should be remembered how the quest for elevation has been closely dependent on technological progress: from the ability to construct high buildings to the concomitant advent of elevators. In Europe, the ‘noble floor’ used to be the first, while the staff were condemned to stay under the roof at the very top of the stairs. Furthermore, it is crucial, for the comparativist, to pay attention to extremely different types of housing and to grasp what contributes to their respective logics of distinction. One thinks, for example, of the importance of patios (central and secondary) for certain pre-Columbian cultures as well as in the Spanish tradition inherited from the Arabs. Other configurations include the isolated, rural English manor (aristocrats having been encouraged since the reign of James I to reside on their land); the Parisian hôtel (town house), with its imposing carriage entrance, its paved courtyard establishing a distance from the street and its rear park; or the neoclassical German villa, cultivating an impression of great comfort within large green districts, as in Berlin’s Tiergarten. It also proves fruitful to reason from the point of view of social categories and to study, for instance, the cross-designs consisting in modernising old castles or, on the contrary, in ‘aristocratising’ bourgeois residences, with a great many turrets and crenellated walls.9 The pursuit of distinction may possibly lead to a quest for singularity, but it can equally be based on shared appearance. I have in mind those British neighbourhoods with completely identical houses, lawns in the front and gardens in the back, as well as those ‘Levittowns’ built in record time by contractor William Levit in the United States, with juxtaposed dwellings being differentiated at best by a few minor options. What was at stake was a kind of collective distinction from nearby districts. As a matter of fact, such homogeneity was intended to be reassuring and indeed used as a sales argument. If by any chance an eccentric resident decided to paint his

3 Residences 

43

outdoor walls pink or to have an unconventional foreground, lawsuits could occur, because it was damaging to the overall image of the place. Besides, it is essential to understand dwellings not only in themselves but also with regard to what they allow: for example to store a lot of goods, to receive important people decently and, therefore, to be in a position to develop one’s network of relationships, and so on. The ‘Antilia’ building of Indian billionaire Mukesh Ambani in Mumbai, generally considered the most expensive private residence in the world today (aside from the special case of Buckingham Palace), has 27 floors, some of which are dedicated to his car collection. Served by 9 elevators, it houses a clinic, 4 swimming pools, and is topped by a heliport.10 It is necessary, however, to look at houses from the perspective of constraints as well. Huge mansions or the possession of several residences require abundant staff. The tower just mentioned would thus have more than 600 employees. The same was true at the beginning of the twentieth century for the Villa Hügel owned by the Krupp family in Germany. This kind of immoderation has sometimes turned out to be more of a burden than an asset, with certain elites eventually choosing to settle in less spacious but more comfortable homes, or to reduce the number of their properties.

Location A nomadic way of life used to be the norm for hunter-gatherer communities and even for early farmers forced to move because of soil depletion. It was to be a necessity for the great feudal lords, obliged to go from one castle to another in order to assert their authority over large territories. As the need for security long prevailed, strongholds had to be impressive not only with their thick walls and ditches, but also with their positioning, often on high ground. Here we return to the recurring theme of verticality, this time with regard to the elevated situation of constructions. In this domain too, many analyses go no further than conventional images. It is all about the residence of the powerful ‘dominating’ the surroundings, ‘crowning the hill’, forcing visitors to ‘climb towards them’, and so on. However, the

44 

J.-P. Daloz

landscape is not always mountainous, or it appears that it is deemed preferable not to settle on the crest line but a little below, sheltered from the wind. Quite frequently, cultural (cosmic) considerations dictate the choice of locations. In addition, it is important to take certain dynamics into account. A dwelling set high up will appear enviable only if it is relatively easy for its occupants to access, especially with the help of vehicles. Otherwise, the logic of superiority is reversed. It is the poor who find themselves condemned to live on the slopes and to make constant efforts (cf. the configuration of the favelas in Rio de Janeiro), while the rich remain below. Undoubtedly, visual elements do matter. The villa on the heights, especially if it is isolated, stands out clearly. It also offers a panoramic perspective. Within civilisations caring for landscape (we have evidence of this as early as Roman antiquity, but especially from the Renaissance onwards in Europe), aesthetic dimensions may prove crucial, in the sense of the pleasure of having a beautiful valley, the curve of a river, mountain peaks, or a private creek and the sea continuously in front of one’s eyes. Nowadays, due to the proliferation of constructions in the best places, an outstanding view tends to become an increasingly rare and coveted prerogative. Particularly fascinating are the attempts to adjust the environment. Sir Robert Walpole (the forerunner of the English prime ministers, although the term did not exist at the time) had the village of Houghton razed to the ground as it was considered as spoiling the view from his residence. It was rebuilt at the edge of the park. Francis Scott Fitzgerald, in The Great Gatsby, tells the story of this prosperous brewer who offers to pay his neighbours taxes for five years if they agree to thatch their roofs.11 Disputes between powerful neighbours may prove far more delicate. When visiting famous houses, one becomes aware of all sort of cases. The most frequent seems to be that of a member of the local elite suddenly seeing an equally prominent figure of the community settle down below. The latter either builds a very high house or erects a row of trees on the upper edge of the land, thus masking the décor to which the uphill resident was accustomed. In order to avoid this kind of inconvenience, American billionaires now tend to acquire not only a property, but all surrounding ones, demolishing the dwellings before having their mega mansion built in the

3 Residences 

45

middle of the new estate. In Florida or Connecticut, some local governments have had to take measures to counter such practices. One of the unintended consequences of intra-elite emulation is that it is likely to lead to the creation of most impressive residential areas, contributing to the fame of a place. During the Renaissance in Florence, this was well understood. Recently enriched families were encouraged to build palaces enhancing the splendour of the city. A cultural limitation, however, was that, even if they had the money, they often gave up buying plots of land in excellent locations, believing it was their duty to erect their palazzo where their ancestors had always lived.12 The rise of courts in Europe was to foster concentration, with many prominent nobles feeling compelled to have a residence in the capital as a showcase of their greatness, close to the sovereign. The advent of long avenues lined with sumptuous houses in the new cities of the nineteenth-century United States was to follow a similar pattern. Competition among its thriving inhabitants eventually led to a kind of shared distinction.13 The multiplication of ever taller and more innovative skyscrapers that make up the skyline of contemporary megacities perpetuates this trend, although the architectural harmony of the whole may sometimes be called into question. This brings me to the theme of ‘fancy neighbourhoods’ or upscale places such as Monaco, Palm Beach or Palm Springs. In many cities, it often seems essential to live in a reputable residential area, even if you only own a small dwelling. In Hong Kong, for example, the extreme importance given to the address is striking, and it will be regularly highlighted for purposes of distinction, including by those who stay in rather ordinary buildings. In London as in American conurbations, the postal code has a great symbolic significance and ranks or demotes you right away. Beyond possible work-related constraints, it appears that many social actors are willing to go into considerable debt in order to acquire, or simply rent, two or three rooms in these particularly renowned sectors, whereas for the same amount of money they could afford large houses with swimming pools in medium-sized towns. Widespread displacements motivated by a need for homogeneity are sometimes observed. In New York City, for instance, under the constant pressure of new waves of immigrants with whom they did not want to

46 

J.-P. Daloz

associate, affluent families gradually moved from the tip of Manhattan to the Upper East Side near Central Park, in what is now the most prestigious portion of the metropolis. What is remarkable is the fact that this major shift was also to concern gourmet restaurants, luxury shops, schools and even churches.14 In more ancient towns in Europe, it was often crucial for the notables to reside in the vicinity of the central square, a few steps from the main institutions, whereas ordinary people could be relegated to the inner suburbs. Frequently, however, in Paris, for example, status was much more related to the floor being occupied than a question of neighbourhood. It was only much later, in order to escape pollution or insecurity, that an exodus of the wealthy to green, peri-urban areas has sometimes been observed, the access of which was made easier with the car boom, while the underprivileged moved into old deserted buildings. In the case of cities plagued by high crime, such developments have encouraged flight to the so-called ‘gated communities’, those very protected residential enclaves implying a radical separation. Nowadays, it is often reckoned that a new stage can be witnessed: that of ‘gentrification’ whereby the wealthy tend to ‘reconquer’ city centres within a context of soaring housing costs. Original codes of distinction have emerged, such as the craze for lofts, former hangars or abandoned factories much sought after by the yuppies of the 1980s, in search of both centrality and space. The bourgeois bohemians or ‘bobos’, so characteristic of the postmodern era, being attracted by cosmopolitanism and the hectic life of the big cities, appear to be key players in this return. Although the trend is definitely observable in many places, it is important to examine situations closely on a case-by-case basis and to resist excessively generalising views. One may then discover all sorts of meaningful patterns. Suffice is to evoke the gradation in New  York City between ‘town houses’ (very rare individual residences among this vertical universe), ‘white-glove buildings’ (in reference to the concierge’s attire), ‘co-ops’ (where the co-owners have shares and manage the property within the framework of a board deliberating upon every issue), ‘condos’ (even more prestigious, where residents actually own their spacious apartment) and, finally, ‘great buildings’ with a legendary address (927 Fifth, 15 Central Park West, etc.).15 In the altogether different contexts of ‘poor

3 Residences 

47

countries’, research has highlighted a kind of cursus honorum consisting in buying a first house that will be sold as soon as possible in order to acquire a second, less obsolete, and then a third, modern one, in the heart of a ‘better’ neighbourhood where one will settle for good. It should be added that in this type of environment, a garage may prove to be much more than a car shelter, ostentatiously emphasising one’s higher status. However, I came to realise that the desire to distance oneself from lower social groups was far from universal. I have in mind those configurations where vertical bonds of patronage prevail over horizontal breaks between strata. During the Edo period in Japan, the shoguns settled next to the imperial palace, but also wanted their vassals to reside close by, albeit somewhat lower down, the buildings reflecting the prevailing hierarchy. Similarly, during my investigations in Nigeria, I was very struck by the fact that the ideal of many ‘Big Men’ was by no means to live far from the swarming masses, but where they had their roots and could build up a clientele of supporters, whether in a miserable village or an overpopulated suburb. Similar logics can be found in the South African or Kenyan townships, social distinction being based above all on the ability to have a large house there. I also think of the elegant bourgeois dwelling built onto the factory one owned, as was quite common in nineteenth-century Germany, for example. Such an arrangement was typically favoured by the first (paternalistic) generation of entrepreneurs, who considered it essential to remain on site, and not to cut themselves off markedly from their workers. Nevertheless, it was rarely meant to last, as their descendants would often prove eager to delegate the management of the firm to directors, and to flee from noise as well as social tensions. This brings us to the important subject of green spaces around residences. What is frequently at stake here is less the search for the perfect site than the enhancement of one’s immediate surroundings. Such an aspiration can be seen at least from the magnificent gardens of Lucullus on the outskirts of Rome and Naples, breaking with the tradition of the senatorial villa in the middle of its farmland. There is an old critical vein going as far as Veblen, which considers ornamental spaces and parks (etymologically referring to enclosures containing game) once again from the point of view of ‘conspicuous waste’ in relation to the pleasure of the powerful. Father Raynal already spoke of the ‘despair of the ploughman’

48 

J.-P. Daloz

and denounced these ‘confiscated perimeters’, ignoring the ‘needs of man’.16 It is with regard to this kind of appropriation for aesthetic reasons in particular, to the detriment of ‘useful’ exploitation, that we are undoubtedly dealing with the issue of social distinction. Beyond such critical generalising views, however, a comparative approach reveals a wide variety of conceptions, bringing to light major cross-cultural differences.17 It is important to penetrate the patterns of meaning at work. Even within a same civilisation, there may be significant contrasts between several trends. I am thinking of the Taoist perspective, whose ideal is to let nature take its course, as compared to the Confucian one which aims to discipline it to the highest degree by establishing a very strict order. I might also mention the Mughal predilection for symmetrical lines departing from the Ottoman preference for sinuous ones. Anyone ignoring the convention of the miniature mountain emerging from a sea of clouds or the rocky islet in the heart of the ocean is unlikely to understand Japanese dry landscape arrangements. In Europe, the small gardens of the Renaissance brought together plants chosen for their scents and decorative properties. However, they have to be seen first and foremost as complex symbolic sets, intended to be deciphered by an elite supposed to grasp the slightest hint. In the seventeenth century, with the rise of the French gardens, the scale changed. We witness here the triumph of man’s domination over a domesticated nature designed to celebrate the grandeur of the master of the place. For example, one thinks of the water jets which were activated as soon as the king was passing by in Versailles, of the long axes which purposefully led from one meaningful statue to another, or of absolute power manifesting itself in the ability to replace entire flowerbeds (and thus colours) overnight. More prosaically, in those days, the precursors of treatises on horticulture advised against the mixing of fruit trees, asserting a clear preference for a well-established order, with those considered ‘noble’ necessarily standing at the top of the espalier. Then, in the following century, came the time of English-style parks, which correspond to a fundamentally different attitude towards nature, breaking with regularity, providing picturesque surprises at every turn. Here, human interventions aim to be as discreet as possible and keen to reproduce superior beauties inspired by the works of the best painters

3 Residences 

49

(Claude, first of all). In the middle of the lawns, very large trees symbolising the longevity of a dynasty are allowed to fully develop. My research led me to discover that there were cases (such as the small town of Aiken, South Carolina, famous for its horse breeding and racing) where nouveaux riches did not hesitate to have a hundred-year-old oak tree transplanted, or a twenty-ton camellia with its root ball, in order to give this impression.18 Then will come the hybrid parks of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, deliberately intertwining styles, up to today’s globalised gardens, taking pride in sheltering plants from all over the world (the taste for exotic species being ancient, however). The visual relationships between dwelling and close environment also prove worth studying in so far as they are quite symptomatic of cultural cleavages. Since the villas of Pliny the Younger at least, one can detect a concern for complementarity and a perfect integration: taking into account both what can be seen from each window and the perspectives on said house from such and such point in the immediate surroundings. This type of preoccupation was to reach heights of sophistication in eighteenth-­century England under the wise expertise of a Capability Brown or a Humphry Repton. On the other hand, in the French tradition, the castle (generally elevated) necessarily dominates. The massifs are arranged according to the view from the first floor, showing, for example, topiary embroidery representing the coat of arms of the house. In this configuration, the gardeners have to trim the hedges continuously, as in China, during the Ming era, it could be expected that maids wash the trunks of the trees every day. Analysing the distinctive properties of parks, gardens, and even orangeries or greenhouses, leads one to take a number of elements and logics into account. They may be related to maintenance, the labour required, and even the climate. While the quest for coolness does not make much sense in many parts of the world, it is crucial in terms of well-being and image in others. One may also wonder to what extent an Epicurean philosophy of withdrawal (enjoyably hidden behind a thick ‘green curtain’) is favoured, or whether pride in one’s wooded areas and horticultural achievements incites to generously grant access to visitors.

50 

J.-P. Daloz

Interiors In some places, interior decoration matters much more than the house itself. I have often noted in Norway (a country where ‘conspicuous modesty’ clearly prevails), the extent to which members of the well-to-do classes can take pride in the comfort of their homes, even showing you their bedrooms and bathrooms. For the comparativist, it is relevant to enquire whether the most important thing is the impression from outside or the internal arrangements. Tellingly, in many old castles the large openings being reserved for certain rooms, irregular patterns in the façade frequently resulted from this. However, when a desire for ideal balance eventually triumphed, the perfect symmetry of well-proportioned windows did prevail, this time imposing constraints on the distribution of the rooms. Even when considering such issues mostly in relation to the quest for distinction, identifiable configurations prove quite varied. There is quite a gap between, say, the taste of Arab elites for rather empty rooms with high ceilings and the traditional bourgeois penchant for small parlours replete with domestic objects (that captivated sociologists so much). A subject worthy of attention is whether or not rooms have a specific function. In Roman antiquity, there was a division, as evidenced by the existence of a whole vocabulary (œucus, tablinum, atrium, etc.). Later, however, multifunctional purpose was to predominate in Europe. The great medieval lords, moving constantly from castle to castle, used to take their chests and their tapestries with them. The latter were displayed according to occasions, but commonly served to divide up rooms. Apart from their precious nature (woven with silk, gold and silver threads, and showing beautiful patterns), the ability to quickly transform the interior space probably made a deep impression. The temporary residence was then transformed into a ‘high place’. I have previously mentioned that the European elites have long received visitors in their bedrooms: i.e. where they indeed slept (but where the most valuable goods could also be gathered), then in the sense of a sumptuously furnished room with a purely decorative bed, topped by an oversized canopy and all sorts of expensive hangings.

3 Residences 

51

Regarding the reception of callers, a particularly noteworthy configuration within the context of the development of permanent palaces, was that of the antechambers in a row, adding up thresholds liable to screen them. A determining aspect was that the more one advanced and got closer to the sovereign (or prelate), the more impressive and richly decorated the rooms became, up to the magnificent apotheosis of the one where he stood.19 Some visitors, in view of their minor title, were not allowed to go beyond a certain stage, or were asked to wait at one level or another, which they had ample opportunity to examine in detail, from floor to ceiling. This is a type of arrangement that dates back to the court of Burgundy in the fifteenth century and was to remain for centuries. Napoleon, for instance, knew very well how to make use of it. During the Baroque period, the number of rooms tended to increase considerably, each bearing its own name. The outsiders’ tactic consisting in trying to mix with regular visitors made it difficult for the servants on guard duty, but some aristocrats themselves could turn out to be vigilant watchdogs. Up till now, I have mainly spoken of the vertical dimensions of social distinction. However, the analyst also has a lot to say about symbolic logics based on horizontality. What often matters here is to convey a feeling of distance, as with those roads that cut across acres and acres of property after having gone through the entrance gate, postponing the apparition of the residence. There is much evidence that access to Hitler’s office in the New Reich Chancellery gave such an impression, as visitors first had to walk through a seemingly endless corridor. In line with what was just said as regards antechambers, a progression interrupted by thresholds is often observable. The labyrinthine Forbidden City in Beijing cleverly played on a sense of crescendo, as did the Tokugawa Palace in Edo. In the West, it was only from the eighteenth century onwards, that eminent social status was again clearly articulated on the differentiation of rooms defined by their use: such as the dining room, the billiard room, the music room and so forth. It was important to refer to a number of occupations emblematic of elitist leisure. If a harmonious coherence was sometimes sought, each of these rooms could on the contrary be deliberately endowed with its own style, accentuating the feeling of variation from one activity to the next and as the hours went by. In the Ottoman palaces, the permanent residents tended to stay in some favourite place

52 

J.-P. Daloz

which was rearranged from morning till night, depending on whether one was supposed to attend a ceremony, eat or sleep there. In the case of the Topkapi Palace, we have testimonies of how chamberlains used to constantly change the carpets, candles, canopies and mattresses accordingly. Within more individualistic societies, a remarkable evolution has been the proliferation of private rooms: not only bedrooms, but also dressing rooms and study. Previously, even in the respective wings of kings and queens, the apartments were usually crowded. The luxury of personal retirement appears to be linked to the emergence of new mentalities committing to the enjoyment of intimate and exclusive spaces. Conversely, one must mention those revolutionary reactions stigmatising ‘selfish’ behaviour and installing several labour-class families in requisitioned spacious dwellings, intentionally ‘compressing the bourgeois’ as it was said at the beginning of the Soviet era. It used to be common for masters never to enter certain areas of their homes, especially those devoted to domestic work, often away from the main rooms because of noise and the fear that cooking odours would spread to the residential areas. In large houses, the owner would at best go down to the cellar occasionally20 and specific routes (with doors and corridors) allowed servants to move around discreetly without having to cross rooms continuously. It is undeniable that technological developments have played a major role in terms of image, whether it be about plumbing or ventilation for example. Nevertheless, serious contradictions between the concerns of appearance and well-being arose. Wide central stairways had a striking effect when it came to solemnly welcoming numerous guests, but in cold regions or in the bad season, they caused a huge loss of warm air, unlike modest staircases built in the corner of the hall. Of course, today, the problem of temperature is no longer an issue, and tycoons do not hesitate to have gigantic staircases built, including replicas of famous models, such as the one from the Titanic. Comparative research on the distinctive dimensions of interiors leads to an awareness of many other aspects. Thus, before the advent of electricity, the number of candles lit determined the brightness (literally and figuratively) of the evening parties. Wax candles were much more

3 Residences 

53

expensive than tallow ones, which did not glow very well and had an unpleasant smell. Providing sustained lighting throughout the night cost a fortune, sometimes more than the meal. Beautiful chandeliers, gilded sconces, and candelabras were themselves expected to contribute to the refinement. Here, more generally, one could devote many pages to the decorative arts and the skilfully orchestrated atmospheres resulting from subtle harmonies and the accumulation of details. One of the questions to be explored is the extent to which one resorts to reputable professionals, to whom may be given carte blanche (as was the case with the famous Elsie de Wolfe, for instance), or whether one takes pride in expressing one’s own taste. It is also fruitful to consider elements closely associated with a certain social level. I am particularly thinking of wallpapers that were long favoured by the middle classes, but whose sophisticated versions (imitating mouldings, presenting a wealth of complicated patterns) have charmed even the highest circles. In some great residences of Mississippi or Savannah, one still comes across dining rooms covered with panoramic friezes made in France. There are civilisations, e.g. Chinese and Japanese, where furniture (often lacquered) may have been deemed more valuable than the house that contained it. In China, impressive beds of different sizes according to the status of wives and concubines reflected the internal hierarchy. Once again, we are dealing with a multi-faceted topic which notably brings attention to cabinet making and precious woods. The importation of tropical species in Europe, North America or the Far East (such as ebony, tulipwood, rosewood and mahogany) has made it possible to obtain furniture and panels with rather original colours, standing out from local or dyed productions. This, however, requires a connoisseur’s eye, as well as some knowledge of the evolution of styles (a perfect illustration of the elitist anchoring in tradition, as opposed to distinction through novelty). It should be emphasised that antique furniture was not always valued. As a matter of fact, it often ended up as firewood for the hearth, the new generations inheriting it preferring more ‘contemporary’ pieces. It should also be remembered that some cultures never had chairs, with even rulers living close to the ground, as did most pre-Columbian ones or the Indian Mughals. This came as a great shock to the Spanish and British colonisers, respectively, who felt an imperative need to be

54 

J.-P. Daloz

somewhat elevated and considered it degrading to have to sleep or eat on the floor, be it on luxurious carpets. Hence the introduction of beds, tables, chairs, or even benches (as in the Taj Mahal), contributing to their dignity. Obviously enough, many interiors appear more like showcases for prized possessions than intended for purely decorative purposes. Today’s specialised storage units deserve attention in this regard: from highly compartmentalised ‘dressing rooms’ (with glass racks keeping cashmere sweaters, custom-made shoes at the perfect temperature, as well as clothing conveyors) to watch display cabinets, for example. This raises the old question of what prevails between the desire for ostentation and the fear of burglary.

Notes 1. For a synthetic view, see J.S. Duncan, ‘From Container of Women to Status Symbol: The Impact of Social Structure on the Meaning of the House’, in the book Housing and Identity: Cross-Cultural Perspectives, London: Croom Helm, 1981, which he edited. 2. Knowing that a luxurious tent can be considered more important for the manifestation of status than a permanent building. Cf. L.W.  Mackie, Symbols of Power: Luxury Textiles from Islamic Lands, 7th–21st Century, New Haven: Yale UP, 2015. 3. A. Rapoport demonstrates the primacy of cultural factors, showing how they dictate the style of houses. He rejects (with supporting examples) most of the usual explanatory schemes. I refer to his book House Form and Culture, Prentice Hall: Englewood Cliffs, 1969. 4. Ph. Grandcoing, Les demeures de la distinction. Châteaux et châtelains au XIXe siècle en Haute-Vienne, Limoges: Presses universitaires de Limoges, 1999, p. 159. 5. For an illustration of this, see W. H. Coaldrake’s book, Architecture and Authority in Japan, London: Routledge, 1996 (especially the chapter on intimidation). 6. The Refinement of America: Persons, Houses, Cities, New  York: Vintage, 1992.

3 Residences 

55

7. Cf. the biography that was devoted to the principal architect of the American elite during the Gilded Age: P.R. Baker, Richard Morris Hunt, Cambridge MA: MIT Press, 1980. 8. Cf., for example, K.L. O’Neil & B.  Fogarty-Valenzuela, ‘Verticality’, Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute, vol. 19/2, 2013, pp. 378–389 (about Guatemala City). 9. Regarding Britain in the nineteenth century, cf. J.M. Crook, The Rise of the Nouveaux Riches: Style and Status in Victorian and Edwardian Architecture, London: John Murray, 1999. 10. The size of swimming pools is sometimes quite significant for elites. Many also feature the initials of the owner. 11. The Great Gatsby, Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1950 [1925], p. 141. 12. Cf. J.R.  Lindow, The Renaissance Palace in Florence: Magnificence and Splendour in Fifteenth-Century Italy, Aldershot: Ashgate, 2007. 13. Cf. J. Cigliano, Showplace of America: Cleveland’s Euclid Avenue, 1850–1910, Kent: The Kent State UP, 1991. This author shows, however, that class relations prevailed, for while imposing railings were installed on the avenue side, lateral barriers between juxtaposed properties were not considered necessary. 14. S. Beckert, The Monied Metropolis: New York City and the Consolidation of the American Bourgeoisie 1850–1896, Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2001, pp. 60 and 155. There is a very abundant literature on the history of New  York and its elites, surprisingly non-repetitive, but betraying rather divergent assumptions 15. Cf. M. Gross, House of Outrageous Fortune: Fifteen Central Park West, the World’s Most Famous Powerful Address, New York: Atria books, 2014. 16. Histoire philosophique et politique, Tome I (quoted by P.-E.  Littré, Dictionnaire de la langue française, Tome 4, Versailles: Encyclopaedia Britannica France, 1994, p. 4458). My translation. 17. A fascinating reversal in this respect is that which goes from the conquest of the wild world (as in pioneer communities, on the edge of the virgin forest, constantly pushing it back and clearing everything), to the contemporary desire to reconnect with nature, following the excesses of urbanisation. Nowadays the city centres are assimilated to the jungle and the green belts to desired spaces. 18. To a lesser but similar degree, a New York woman, inquiring whether the exteriors of her mansion were in bloom in preparation for her visit in late winter, and after her steward’s answer was no, promptly ordered a pleth-

56 

J.-P. Daloz

ora of azaleas and hyacinths from Georgia further south. I draw on K.  Lawrence’s brief monograph, Heroes, Horses & High Society: Aiken from 1540 (Columbia: King Press, 1971). This kind of text, written by local chroniclers and full of anecdotes, often prove to be an interesting source (with the necessary caution). 19. Cf. the chapter by P. Waddy, ‘Architecture for Display’, in G. Feigenbaum (ed.), Display of Art in the Roman Palace 1550–1750, Los Angeles: The Getty Research Institute, 2014. 20. It is relevant to note how much all this has evolved over time. I am thinking in particular of the rise of the open, American-style kitchen, which has become a legitimate place to eat every day and even to entertain friends, with distinction now resting on the design and possession of the latest equipment.

4 Vehicles

Vehicles have long been of great importance to elites. One need only think of the chariots discovered by archaeologists in princely tombs, or of some ambassadors’ spectacular entries in the seventeenth century.1 Nowadays, one would be more inclined to refer to the competitive world of marinas or the congestion of airfields close to posh resorts. What is at stake here is, of course, the ability to move (ever more quickly and comfortably), but also, quite often, the desire to parade around. Regarding the analysis of distinction, this theme therefore encourages us to address aspects related to the very characteristics of these means of locomotion as well as the ways they have been used.

 he Elitist Vehicle: Transformations T and Gradations The history of human mobility is consubstantial with that of technical progress and, when viewed from the angle of social image, it can largely be reduced to conveyances that eventually supplant others. However, each one has its own distinctive logic that must be understood.2

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 J.-P. Daloz, Expressions of High Status, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3_4

57

58 

J.-P. Daloz

The first prestige vehicles seem to have been carts driven by oxen. They were terribly slow but allowed heavy loads to be carried. In the third millennium BC, wheels were still massive. The subsequent invention of those with spokes, (to be found from the Indus Valley to the last European Neolithic communities, through Mesopotamia) represented a major technological advance. Carts have always had a rural connotation due to their use in the fields. Nevertheless, judging from some representations available (depicting them supporting raised thrones, sculptures of deities, or even the yurts of nomadic leaders in the Asian steppes), they could also play a significant role in asserting status.3 In no way were they universally adopted. They used to be shunned, for example, in the Islamic world, not to mention all the cultures that had no knowledge of the wheel (or did not use it for this purpose). The cart was later pulled by horses, donkeys and hybrid equids. The domestication of the horse and the onager, long hunted for their meat, was crucial, particularly in view of the benefits they provided in terms of speed. This will be even more obvious with the advent of the two-wheeled cart in the Russian steppes, which was to spread in China, India, the Near East, Egypt, Rome, and even among the Celts. Widely used in combat, it seems that these light vehicles were appreciated very early on. A remarkable paradox was that they proved to be faster when driven by a pair of horses rather than the more impressive quadrigas. The mounted horse was to eventually predominate, the cart being used by the Romans mainly in the context of the famous races or triumphs. Beautiful, well-trained horses began to be perceived as noble animals conferring prestige on those who rode them, as evidenced by the rise of equestrian statues since Marcus Aurelius. This trend (which certainly dates back to the Bronze Age in more than one civilisation) would, of course, continue throughout the Middle Ages, which gave a strong preponderance to chivalry, as we know. The chariot was never to be completely neglected (if only to carry luggage), but it suffered from an image of indolence. One thinks of the brocade-draped litter intended for ladies or prelates, and unworthy of a virile warrior, the sovereign included.4 It was not until the seventeenth century and the creation of carriages with improved suspension and insulation (thanks to a real roof and the curtains being replaced by windows) that the horse-drawn vehicle became

4 Vehicles 

59

acceptable in the eyes of a male aristocracy now keen on shelter from bad weather, dust and mud. From a comparative point of view, however, it is worth noting that it had long been perfectly legitimate (in China, for example) for the elites to travel well protected. What matters, as far as the Western world is concerned, is that this entailed unprecedented forms of distinction. These were based above all on a high degree of finishing, both inside and out, involving many craftsmen. Woodcarvers, gilders, saddlers, upholsterers and even famous painters (such as Watteau and Boucher in the following century) would, at times, make these vehicles true works of art on wheels.5 Elites became much less visible, even if it was still possible to catch a glimpse of the passengers dressed in their finery, no longer in danger of being soiled. From now on, it is the vehicle itself that is likely to attract attention, with several footmen and postilions in the colours of the house, as well as matching horses.6 By then, two phenomena, probably correlated, can be observed. Firstly, a considerable spread of these vehicles. It is estimated that in the middle of the nineteenth century, no less than 400,000 private carriages were in use in England. Secondly, a growing differentiation, with imposing berlins, landaus proudly displaying their coats of arms, but also lighter coupés whose elegance dwelled in their fine harmonious curves. This was the era of the phaeton (with a mythological connotation that I find quite daring) drawn by a single horse, which the owner himself could run at full speed. We have here the precursors of the limousine and the sports car, with their respective criteria of distinction linked to comfort and speed.7 The possession of several vehicles, possibly assigned to various family members (or occasions), presupposed the enjoyment of substantial means, given the importance placed on every detail in this symbolically competitive sector, including the harnessing of horses. In the big cities, this referred to the fact that one could afford large stables and the service of staff taking care of the animals and of the carriages. Here, it would be appropriate to evoke the world of sedan chairs, and the more exotic one of palanquins, hammocks and rickshaws, but I will return to these later, from a cultural perspective. At this point I would like to say a few words about the advent of the train, which eventually was to replace horse-drawn vehicles. Although rail had serious advantages in terms of speed, it proved (like all public transport) to be constraining

60 

J.-P. Daloz

in several respects: the destinations being served and the schedules, in particular. Nevertheless, we know of personalities who had their own train in the past, or at least were able to hitch their private waggon. Some aristocrats in England also had convoys stopped at their whim. In any case, the division into three classes and the existence of luxury trains exclusively dedicated to a wealthy clientele was to minimise the chances of cohabitation with lower social categories. Still in chronological order, a few words about the bicycle are required. It has been forgotten how elitist an image it had: for example, that of rich young men trying to impress their girlfriend from the top of their penny-­ farthing in the alleys of Hyde Park.8 The bicycle was adopted by sovereigns in Europe and by maharajas, but especially by members of the bourgeoisie, who enjoyed being photographed while practicing this kind of leisure activity. It was a machine that could be proudly displayed at the entrance of the house, properly cleaned up as soon as one returned from a ride. Long considered to be of perilous use, the ability to overcome difficulties was part of the distinction (cf. Chap. 7) although it was seen as inappropriate for ladies and children. The invention of the much more stable tricycle, followed by that of the modern bicycle in the 1890s (with brakes, pedals in the middle, spring saddle and inflatable tires), was to mitigate these prejudices somewhat. Queen Victoria herself gave her assent to riders. Cycles of all sorts nevertheless posed problems concerning apparel, with dresses that were too long or too short obviously not being easily worn. In so far as the bicycle was then a machine for display, being well dressed was expected. Decent solutions, albeit immediately controversial, were found.9 It is well known how the bicycle represented a means of emancipation for many women in the upper strata, before becoming more democratic and contributing significantly to the empowerment of the lower classes, both in the city and in the countryside. Subsequent competition from the moped, the scooter, was to lead to its decline. Then came its great return, related to the fashion of mountain biking and, henceforth, that of the urban bike communicating a new ecological image. I now turn to what is undoubtedly one of the most interesting subjects for the analysis of social distinction: the automobile. These very unreliable devices were originally met with contrasting feelings by elites:

4 Vehicles 

61

enthusiastically in France, where they quickly gave rise to competitions of elegance involving ladies dressed in the latest fashions, but with some reserve in Germany and in England (where many Lords considered such noisy and malodorous machines utterly vulgar). If for the rich of the Belle Époque, the possession of this kind of recreational conveyance could definitely serve as a key sign of eminence and modernity, the mass production of cheap vehicles was to make a major change. Even though all car makers increasingly strive to never give their models a ‘low-end’ appearance, and technological advances prove to spread quite rapidly, the automotive world remains extremely hierarchical. At the apex of the pyramid, one finds prestigious but relatively familiar brands (German in particular), then rarer ones, manufactured in only a few thousand copies per year (Ferrari, Aston Martin, Lamborghini, Bentley, etc.), and at the very top those called ‘super cars’ (like the Paganis or the Bugattis) produced in extremely limited numbers and boasting supreme performance. However, the comparatist knows from experience that it is necessary to reason at the scale of each country, taking national factors into account (notably the presence or absence of assembly lines and the varying availability of imported vehicles, sometimes heavily overtaxed). Above all, it is a question of capturing the symbolic associations between a social environment and types of cars. Criteria of assessment include many connotations liable to vary greatly from one context to another. In the following pages, I will consider several aspects particularly contributing to distinction. But I must first complete this overview of vehicles. I have not yet talked about boats, which could lead us as far back as ancient Egypt. This is a multi-faceted world: that of canoes, junks and gondolas, floating palaces and figureheads, but also lavish parties on glamorous ocean liners, sleek sailboats and over-equipped mega-yachts. We will see that many parallels can be made with other means of transport and that it is moreover possible to establish some links with facets dealt with elsewhere in this book. I am thinking, for example, of the importance of having an irreproachable, competent crew with a fine appearance. Finally, flying aircrafts obviously deserve careful attention, from the sumptuous but ephemeral era of airships (arriving in a Zeppelin in Baden-Baden certainly did not go unnoticed) to contemporary jets and

62 

J.-P. Daloz

helicopters. As with other vehicles, the reflection is inevitably linked to technical progress as well as to processes of democratisation. Particularly striking about planes is the broad range of the expressions of social superiority they allow. At one end of the continuum are the vast majority of people who will never take flight in their lives, then the huge masses who are able to travel occasionally today under ‘low-cost’ conditions, the regulars of the economy class, those who can afford slightly more comfortable seats at the front of that zone, the passengers used to business class, first class and even to the ‘suites’ introduced on some airlines (with a butler as an option). Then there are the very privileged ones who fly on rented aircraft, those who enjoy personal or company-owned planes and, at the top of the list, the billionaires who have their private airstrip close to their residence. It goes without saying that such a gradation is most likely to foster envy-inspiring comparisons. Another important criterion is frequency. The hallmark of the ‘jet set’ was that they flew year-round, while the bulk of the air travellers did so only episodically. Helicopters would deserve a treatment of their own. They undoubtedly save time in megacities such as New  York or Sao Paolo, when it comes to getting from the office to home or to the airfield. The potentially intrusive nature of these machines, which can land just about anywhere (including, for example, on a private school’s cricket pitch for a quick visit to one’s children), and the spectacular sight of thunderous arrivals as well as that of vertical take-off, explain the craze for them.10 Of course, the juxtaposition of imposing vehicles (the helicopter on the yacht, the sports car pulling up to the marina dock) are bound to make an impression.

On Some Common Characteristics Let us now try to go a little further and highlight the main factors that contribute to the ascendancy of vehicles. Regarding prestige goods, it is generally appropriate (though not always easy) to separate utilitarian dimensions from more symbolic ones. In my previous writings, I have widely criticised theories (especially semiological ones) which tend to reduce everything to systems of signs and matters of standing. A good

4 Vehicles 

63

illustration to show the limits of this kind of thesis is that of the luxury SUVs. These polluting machines, very consumptive of petrol, have been compared to ‘tanks’ decidedly out of place in large cities—their imposing, elevated style fitting well with the conquering image of the ‘yuppies’ of the 1980s. However, it is possible to emphasise not only their aggressive appearance, but also their protective aspect, likening them to ‘gated communities on wheels’. In many countries (from Mexico to Russia) where the risks of road accidents and kidnapping remain high, these ‘defensive’ considerations are far from secondary. On the other hand, if one takes the case of the astonishing concentration of sports cars capable of reaching extreme speed in a city such as Hong Kong, with no place to ‘tear along’ at all, it appears that the possession of flashy vehicles may indeed be primarily a symbolic concern, as their potential is hardly ever put into practice. This is less true in Shanghai or Beijing, although the pink Porsches particularly favoured by rich female drivers there also seem to correspond to the same goal. A good way to tackle the topic is to ask to what extent the structures of the vehicles are relatively similar and if it is mainly the decoration which provides distinction, leading to the use of very expensive products (e.g. burr walnut), or in the past to the magnificent ornamentation of carriage panels. Regarding modern cars, one may think of Elvis Presley’s gleaming Cadillac: the one that was said to be made of solid gold but which was in fact coated with a substance partly made of diamond powder. However, it is well known that some convertibles in Dubai today are indeed adorned with genuine gold leaves. This brings attention to the issue of ornamentation, which often proves to be more complex than it appears at first sight, as apparently cosmetic elements fulfil a practical function in reality.11 One must bear in mind that, unlike the dichotomous (useful/symbolic) perspectives put forward by many analysts,12 outstanding functional properties can themselves be a source of prestige. As far as vehicles are concerned, what particularly matters are much higher performances and levels of comfort. I have mentioned the earlier cleavage between heavy carriages intended for long-distance journeys and coupés dedicated to speed. Both had their ostentatious virtues. Nevertheless, when one looks at sports cars, it is surprising how Spartan some legendary models were to drive. The most important factor here is of course the exceptional power

64 

J.-P. Daloz

of the engine. Conversely, limousines are not necessarily equipped with a very impressive one, their eminence lying in their spaciousness. There are similar divides in the world of navigation. Some very fast models (from racing yachts to speedboats) showcase their slender lines, but they also require skill, whereas oversized yachts certainly communicate an entirely different image.13 Even in the aviation sector, it is noticeable that a few magnates, rather than acquiring a business jet (Gulfstream, Falcon, etc.) costing thirty million dollars, prefer to buy a second-hand Boeing or Airbus, in which it will be possible to set up lounges and large bedrooms. Of course, many high-end vehicles do combine comfort and speed, but they suffer from falling short of the records that can be reached in either field. Besides it is always conceivable for the more fortunate to have various types. It is also appropriate to compare means of transport. In the early days of commercial aviation, transatlantic passengers had the choice between propeller-driven aircrafts, with their dreadful vibrations, and the usual comfort of cruise ships. It seems that for Americans, in particular, the speed of flights, combined with the taste for novelty, became a major criterion.14 Some airlines (especially Air France) tried to compensate for the unpleasant turbulence by offering refined meals. Later on, we will find again, within air navigation itself, this opposition between comfort and speed, the latter being symbolised by the Concorde, the supersonic airliner capable of flying from New  York to Paris in three and a half hours, but with seats that were much narrower than those available in first class onboard jumbo jets. One of the major distinguishing factors is sometimes the length of the vehicles. With yachts, this is a criterion that can become an obsession. Comparisons in this area are the subject of endless conversations in marinas. It must be said that there is a sort of well-understood progression from one acquisition to the next, often with increases of only a few feet, but which are nonetheless symbolically significant. At the very top, one witnesses a bidding war between Arab oil kings, Russian oligarchs and Silicon Valley tycoons, marked by constant rumours about the size of the ships being built and attempts to spy on each other. The result is, ironically enough, that some yachts have become so huge that they can no longer fit into marinas and are forced to moor between two rusty cargo ships at times.15 The same applies to oversized limousines which prove

4 Vehicles 

65

unable to manoeuvre in the narrow streets of famous Swiss winter sports resorts. As for the boats, the only acceptable solution is to anchor offshore and to reach port by Chris-Craft. This raises the issue of infrastructure. The vehicles, as impressive as they may be, are dependent on the existence of roads, runways and harbours. We know that the Romans implemented an exceptional network thereof. However, many regions of the world were to remain without roads worthy of the name.16 In Latin America, for instance, the possibilities of parading around in carriages were long limited to very small areas indeed. Nowadays, difficult conditions paradoxically highlight the qualities of one’s 4×4 vehicles or the importance of having a helicopter. Another theme is that of license plates. In Nigeria, I noticed that ‘traditional chiefs’ struggled to obtain the number 1 of the series or its combination (11, 111, 1111), as if this repetition symbolically accentuated their primacy. In some countries, there are relentless competitions for numbers that are supposed to bring good luck (such as the 8 in China) or represent perfection (as with the 12 in a Muslim context). This encourages bribes to self-interested bureaucracies, but also sometimes very official auctions reaching staggering prices, notably in the United Arab Emirates. It should be added that various types of information may be communicated through license plates. If the year of manufacture is indicated, drivers who can afford to change their car on a regular basis can emphasise in this way that they always have the very latest model. However, seniority (e.g. a Rolls Royce passed down from generation to generation) can equally be a source of distinction. Furthermore, in the countries that allow some latitude in this matter, we have the whole range of registration plates including a message: VIP, 4U2SEE, EL ADJ, for example, or evoking the brand (LAMBO), the model (XJS for a Jaguar). On a smaller scale, a similar phenomenon can be observed for aircrafts (M-YJET).17 The desire for personalisation proves more or less sophisticated, but it certainly proclaims a commitment to increasing one’s own distinction.18 Finally, I would like to mention that although the hierarchy between vehicles is often self-evident (I refer to what was said about the length of yachts), it sometimes requires the eye of an expert. Two helicopters that look very similar can actually differ in price by as much as three times and

66 

J.-P. Daloz

provide markedly different levels of performance.19 When doing research on these topics I have encountered various modalities that fit well into my analytical framework. Thus, regarding the question of quantitative/ qualitative display, there are wealthy families who deliberately acquire an heterogeneous fleet, with a limousine, a convertible, a sports car, an off-­ road vehicle, a Mini, etc. and others who own a number of strictly identical vehicles. Some Mercedes enthusiasts do not want the type and engine capacity to feature on their car,20 whereas these letters and numbers were so important to the Nigerian ‘Big Men’ I studied. However, this kind of comparison raises issues of a more cultural nature, which I must now address.

Conduct Beyond observations about the properties of vehicles, the analysis of social distinction requires inter-cultural sensitivity, especially when it comes to the concrete experience of driving or being driven. Thus, it is far from insignificant that a very beautiful carriage offered to a maharajah as a diplomatic gift could never be used because it proved unthinkable that the coachman sit above him. The same applied in Russia whereas in Victorian London, the famous hansom cabs did not pose any problems of this nature. If the drivers enjoyed an elevated position at the rear, they were after all the ones who remained in the open, protected only by their hat and their gabardine. To give another example, it is interesting to realise that there was a time when driving a convertible was much less prestigious than having a chauffeured car with a fixed roof. Numerous illustrations highlight the extraordinary importance that vehicles may have as symbolic expressions of superiority in many societies. One of my favourites, in this regard, comes from my investigations in Nigeria where the obsession with the Mercedes-Benz became such in the 1980s that the epithet ‘V-boot’ (referring to the rear line of the German brand, then) was created and used to label all kinds of high-end display. It could be said of a young woman with sophisticated braids that she had a ‘V-boot hairstyle’. In some tropical islands, like Bermuda, Barbados, or Trinidad, there is a tendency to refer to car owners by using whatever

4 Vehicles 

67

designation features on their registration plates. As vehicles are usually kept for decades and as it is possible to transfer the plate in case of a new acquisition, this nickname will stay with you throughout your life. The primordial character of cars, endlessly bestowed with lavish care, is also attested by the existence of a very rich, detailed, vocabulary.21 Equally of interest and deserving to be studied in all its cultural depth are vehicles requiring human carriers. For example, to anticipate the question of pictorial representations (which will be dealt with in Chap. 14), it was noted that in Egyptian tombs, the number of slaves depicted far exceeded what was necessary for the transport of a pharaoh or dignitaries. Hence the interpretation that it was very likely a status marker.22 When one thinks of this means of locomotion, what comes to mind are the image of the colonial officer and of the missionary circulating by hammock on African trails, or that of the Asian wife transported in a palanquin. The vision of human beings condemned to assume a task usually assigned to animals cannot but shock contemporary sensibilities. The same goes for the rickshaw, a Japanese invention that was to be exported to China, Korea and Singapore, where, often adorned and pulled by a servant in uniform, it was to become an important sign of belonging to higher spheres. However, if we consider, for instance, the case of Dahomey porters appointed for the transportation of the king, or that of a specialised Indian sub-caste, we realise that we are sometimes dealing with men who were proud of their strength, their skills and reputation. The very best of them were very much in demand and quite able to overcome all kinds of obstacles (rivers, rocky terrain, swamps), thus providing a maximum comfort to the distinguished person traveling in hammock or palanquin. Knowing how to cushion most of the jolts, they efficiently took turns in order to maintain an even pace.23 I have taken the few illustrations above in order to give an idea of the diversity of practices and cultural representations regarding vehicles in relation to concerns for distinction. With the increasingly competitive and congested road environment, it is obvious that the behaviours and symbolic battles of those who drive (owner or employee) are worthy of attention. Already in the days of horse-drawn carriages, altercations at crossroads were common, and exclusive access to certain areas or even the search for places to park have long been the subject of significant clashes.

68 

J.-P. Daloz

I will come back to this in Chap. 17, which is devoted to the issue of precedence.24 There is also the question of the relative power of the vehicles involved. Here, however, it is important not to fall prey to stereotypical readings that postulate analogies between car performance and social hierarchy, for example, or prone to equate aggressive overtaking with a ‘symbolic violence’ that would systematically be the hallmark of the dominant class. The ability to step on the gas, to honk or to flash the headlights is definitely not the prerogative of the wealthy. On the contrary, as can be seen all over the world, members of the ‘dominated’ strata often seem to take a kind of revenge on roads and to use them as a space for self-affirmation.

Notes 1. James II’s envoy to the Holy See, Lord Castlemaine, mobilised no less than 330 official carriages for his reception by Pope Innocent XI.  Cf. H.  Jacobsen, Luxury and Power: The Material World of the Stuart Diplomat, 1660–1714, Oxford: Oxford UP, 2012. 2. For a good introduction, cf. S. Piggott, Wagon, Chariot and Carriage: Symbol and Status in the History of Transport, London: Thames and Hudson, 1992. 3. Cf. J. Boardman, The Triumph of Dionysos: Convivial Processions, from Antiquity to the Present Day, Oxford: Archaeopress, 2014. 4. This brings to mind the (apocryphal) cliché of Merovingian ‘idle kings’, slumped on soft cushions. The tradition of the chariot assigned to women dates back to ancient Greece. In Rome, sumptuary laws regulated its use. There have been reflections on the relationship between vehicle type and social rank since at least the Guanzi (the Chinese encyclopedia of the Warring States period). Fictional literature is also interesting in this regard: from Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales to Zola and American novelists. See, for example, L. DeLucia, ‘Positioning Steinbeck’s Automobiles: Class and Cars in The Grapes of Wrath’, The Steinbeck Review, vol. 11/2 (2014), pp. 138–154. 5. On the evolution of this type of vehicle, readers may refer to the old but rich work by G.A. Thrupp, The History of Coaches, Amsterdam: Meridian Publ., 1969 [1877] and to the volume edited by D. Roche and D. Reytier,

4 Vehicles 

69

Voitures, chevaux et attelages du XVIe au XIXe siècle, Versailles: Château de Versailles, 2000. 6. Their number was a major issue and has often been the subject of regulation. On his return at the beginning of the ‘Hundred Days’, Napoleon had a carriage drawn by eight white horses (the usual prerogative of sovereigns). In 1840, following the return of his mortal remains from Saint Helena, the hearse was to be drawn by sixteen of them! 7. The ultralight vehicle with two seats (unlike the chariot) actually dates back to the Roman cisium, which was notably used to travel quickly from the capital to one’s villa. The equivalent existed during the Renaissance and was much appreciated by François I, among others. 8. Within the abundant literature available, cf. W.E. Bijker, Of Bicycles, Bakelites, and Bulbs: Toward a Theory of Sociotechnical Change, Cambridge MA: MIT Press, 1997. 9. I refer to divided skirts and the famous Amelia Bloomer costumes. More generally, one could dwell on the relationship between women and vehicles, especially when they required adaptations (for example, special equipment for riding mares sidesaddle), sometimes a source of distinction. 10. Following a new fashion in India and the United States, newlyweds may thus disappear in the galvanising whirl of the rotors. Nowadays, the interior of the machine is often soundproofed, which allows to play music or watch movies. 11. This is the case in many areas (clothing, architecture, etc.) where embellishments are mainly meant to consolidate a structure or to hide inelegant elements. As far as cars are concerned, however, one has to admit that some accessories are absolutely useless, such as the Cadillac fins. 12. From R.  Merton to R. Barthes, among others. I refer to my chapter, ‘Elitist Consumption: Revisiting the Question of Utilitarian vs. Symbolic Motives’, in A. Mica et al. (eds), Sociology and the Unintended: Robert Merton Revisited, Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 2011, pp. 63–73. 13. Related to supreme luxury, but also to the quest for originality with, for example, an aquarium containing piranhas or a set of old bronze cannons. 14. Cf. K. Hudson & J. Pettifer, Diamonds in the Sky: A Social History of Air Travel, London: The Bodley Head, 1979. This eventually was to contribute to the sharp decline of cruises, which would however come back into fashion later, albeit this time within the context of mass tourism. In the

70 

J.-P. Daloz

past, staying with the same people for an entire crossing meant that you had to bring a large wardrobe, hence loads of luggage. This was not really a problem in the ship’s suites, but is no longer possible with airlines. 15. R.  Frank, Richi$tan: A Journey Through the 21st Century Weatlh Boom and the Lives of the New Rich, London: Piatkus, 2007, pp. 125 ff. This book, by a Wall Street Journal (conservative) reporter who had access to many top businessmen, is rather exceptional within that kind of literature in that it is largely based on direct observation and contains interesting interviews. 16. For a general overview, see M.G. Lay, Ways of the World: A History of the World’s Roads and of the Vehicles that Used Them, New Brunswick: Rutgers UP, 1992. 17. Cf. L. Budd, ‘Flights of Indulgence (Or how the very wealthy fly)…’, in I. Hay & J.V Beaverstock (eds), Handbook on Wealth and the Super-­Rich, Cheltenham: Edward Elgar publishers, 2016, pp. 302–321. The names of ships (which will generally be rechristened by new buyers) offer more possibilities. 18. I was told one day of an allusion to Shakespeare, which involved seeing the cars of the same owner side by side, with the plates in the right order forming a quotation. I was unfortunately not able to substantiate it. 19. With regard to cost, it is not insignificant to note the enormous difference between one luxury vehicle and another. A Rolls-Royce that can be bought for a few hundred thousand pounds is not much compared to a private jet or a yacht amounting to thirty millions (not to mention the considerable costs of crew, parking and maintenance). 20. When you think about it, however, this is a rather ambiguous attitude, possibly interpreted in terms of modesty, but also potentially suggesting that the model is more prestigious than it appears. 21. F.E.  Manning, ‘Nicknames and Number Plates in the British West Indies’, The Journal of American Folklore, 87 (1974), pp.  123–132; D.  Miller, Modernity: An Ethnographic Approach—Dualism and Mass Consumption in Trinidad, Oxford: Berg, 1994, pp. 238 ff. 22. V. Vasiljevic, ‘How Many Porters?’, Egypt and the Levant, 25 (2015), pp. 509–535. 23. A.F.  Iroko, ‘Le transport en hamac dans le royaume du Danhomé du xviie au xixe siècle’, in H. d’Almeida-Topor et al. (eds.), Les transports en Afrique (xixe-xxe siècle), Paris: L’Harmattan, 1992; M.E. Opler & S. Shukla, ‘The Special Vocabulary of the Palanquin-Bearing Castes of

4 Vehicles 

71

North Central India’, The Journal of American Folklore, 321 (1968), pp. 216–234. 24. It should be pointed out that this topic of vehicles, like most others, invites us to consider the logics of distinction together: here possibly in relation to servants, splendid animals, self-confidence, manners (e.g. giving up the best seats to people more important than oneself, or to women), and even sartorial matters.

5 Food

The contrast between those who have difficulty getting enough to eat and those who enjoy abundant and refined food all the time is one of the most glaring expressions of social disparity. Any ostentation in this domain will be all the more marked when it is asserted against a background of famine, of plundering of the food resources in a conquered country, or of ration cards. Analytically, it is frequently stressed that the culinary realm can also contribute to affirmations of solidarity among members of a community.1 These two objectives are by no means incompatible. Commensality is a major way of conveying proximity and sharing, but it can most certainly be combined with signs of higher status. Suffice it to think of head tables. Taking an interest in this kind of subject leads to the consideration of many aspects. These concern the food itself and everything that surrounds its consumption, from the staging of meals to place settings. In these areas, it proves difficult to find satisfactory generic terms that are neither ethnocentric nor reductive. Just as with sexuality, it is important to understand that between the impulse (in this case hunger) and the act, cultures matter.2

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 J.-P. Daloz, Expressions of High Status, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3_5

73

74 

J.-P. Daloz

Variability In most hunter-gatherer groups, the man who brings in a large quantity of game is forced to share and cannot claim any lasting superiority from it. By contrast, ‘Big Men’ from New Guinea build their reputation as leaders by discriminatingly treating supporters liable to contribute to their own reputation. As early as the Neolithic period, community chiefs were profitably able to use the accumulation of surpluses and, in particular, crucial redistributions in times of famine as a means to status. In a much more collective way, the Maoris used to erect frail structures about fifteen feet high, with platforms where impressive quantities of victuals were hung in anticipation of a spectacular feast (hakari), intended among other things to cement alliances. While preparations could take months, everything was eaten up in a day, and a lasting shortage usually followed. In classical Greece, aristocrats took turns hosting a symposium in their homes, among themselves, whereas in the Hellenistic era, public banquets were offered to the whole city by ‘euergetes’ vying with one another in generosity. Equal portions were then served. In Gaul, chiefs sucked mead (a drink reserved to them) from a common container using straws. A few centuries later, a cup of wine would be circulated from which one drank a little before handing it to one’s neighbour. In Eastern Europe, one glass would also be passed from guest to guest but would eventually be broken, so that it could no longer be used. In Japan, sake is drunk in one go from a shared cup, rinsed each time, or at least turned over and shaken. The high points in late medieval banquets were the entremets, in the sense of a show that provided surprise effects, with, e.g. knights in arms emerging from a huge pie, a boar’s head spitting flames or gigantic fountains of wine. In feudal Japan, around the same period, under the strict control of a master, the guardian of traditions, the shogun and his guests took part in solemn tea ceremonies, regulated down to their smallest details. The distinctive character here lies on the contrary in the ability to stick scrupulously to a pre-established ritual. During the Renaissance, a servant would bring poultry from the kitchens. It was then cut up by a young nobleman and presented to the

5 Food 

75

sovereign and his distinguished guests. Later, in a upper-middle class home, the master of the house would have the honour of slicing a mutton leg himself and of serving everyone; by contrast, in a Chinese meal everything (from meat to vegetables to fruit) will have been diced, exempting hosts from this task. Yet another illustration: if a picnic is generally synonymous with laid-back attitude, it can prove to be a major occasion for social distinction, especially in England. Concerning so-called table manners (but there is not necessarily a table!), eating avidly or very slowly, with delectation, may be required, with a view to express one’s appreciation. It will be expected not to completely finish what has been given to you, so as to indicate that you are fully satisfied, or on the contrary not to leave a single crumb or grain of rice, except if one wishes to imply that the dish was not really tantalising. In the West, the bourgeois convention will be to pass the dish round twice, but not more. It may have been inculcated from childhood that one must absolutely leave one’s glass placed on the table when being served, or lift it, sometimes with both hands as in Korea. In any case, the intention seems to be to facilitate the task of the person pouring the liquid, either by maintaining perfect stability or by diligently approaching the cup to the bottle or carafe. If the codes are thus radically antinomic, they are not without meaning. They can also vary according to the drinks on offer. Thus, it is, for example, polite in Japan to serve sake to the brim for others (in the expectation that it will be reciprocated). This, however, would be most rude when serving tea. It should be recalled here that the consumption of alcohol is revealing of significant cultural cleavages. Inebriation can be acceptable (as in Scandinavia, but only on weekends), seen as allowing a desirable relaxation (as in the Far East), or what is anticipated is moderation (that of the connoisseur). I could go on and on. Nevertheless, what interests me is not so much to add up illustrations of divergent configurations as to highlight their respective logics, whether they concern exclusive elitist moments, or banquets where a whole community as well as foreigners are invited.3 More fundamentally, for the comparativist, the question is to which extent food appears to be a major vector of distinction (as in France and China, for example). Whatever the case, it is undeniable that we are dealing with

76 

J.-P. Daloz

a facet that is particularly liable to be combined with others: from residence, domesticity (cooks, waiters) and elitist entourage, to finery (dressing up for dinner), mastery of manners, refined gestures, conversational aptitudes, appropriate knowledge of food or wine, and so forth.

Staging Meals appear as good occasions for the demonstration of prominence. If such prominence mainly tends to be expressed through what is consumed and decoration, it often relies on theatrical conventions playing on spatial criteria. When there is a large gathering, it is common practice to allocate places of honour to distinguished guests (at a raised or central table), focusing attention on them. If there is only one table, respective positions will reflect the social hierarchy (but according to potentially dissimilar codes: sitting at the end being considered, or not, as a sign of superiority, for instance, or the custom of alternating men and women possibly prevailing or being unthinkable, etc.). In Chinese elitist banquets of the past, table plans were much more than simple lists. Long paragraphs could describe the chosen arrangement. On the other hand, it may happen (as with company get-togethers in Japan) that name cards are not even necessary, the participants sitting in a certain place according to their well-­ known rank. A very ostentatious attitude consists in eating alone in front of others, as in those castles where privileged courtiers could be periodically invited to watch their sovereign lunch or dine. This brings to mind the case of Henri III in France, who had a barrier built, separating the royal table from onlookers, to the great displeasure of many noblemen. More commonly, the introduction of a clear internal order (with head and lesser tables) did not fail to exacerbate quarrels over precedence at times, and serious incidents. Strong dissatisfaction could be expressed by symbolically tearing the tablecloth and withdrawing dramatically. In addition to spatial dimensions, elements related to furnishings are frequently involved. At banquets attended by hundreds or even thousands of guests, the most prominent personalities have often been distinguished by the larger or more comfortable seats allocated to them, while

5 Food 

77

the average people have to content themselves with ordinary benches. Historically in Europe, even if there were some famous exceptions,4 the tables have long consisted of boards placed on trestles. Consequently, in castles, it was crucial to have them covered with fine cloth, I will return to this. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, with the advent of the dining room as a specialised area, furniture made of solid wood by cabinetmakers became the norm. Its sheen would be revealed at the end of the meal, with the servants removing the tablecloth in a beautiful coordinated gesture. Buffets (both in the sense of a table where beautiful dishes are placed in advance—desserts, bowls of fruit, and so forth—and of a credenza containing precious plates) can also be part of the staging of opulence. The second aspect, calls to mind one of our usual questions regarding prestige goods, namely: are we dealing with ‘pure signs of distinction’ here or with pieces meant to be used, at least on special occasions? The tendency to replace heavy Gothic furniture with Renaissance dressers (i.e. ephemeral scaffolding with up to a dozen cloth-covered shelves, possibly topped with a canopy) full of engraved plates, golden fruit dishes and candlesticks suggests that such objects were mainly intended for display, particularly if they happened to be very big or fragile. In any case, we are confronted with symbolically appropriate elements, definitely referring to the culinary world. When considering the later popularity of certain pieces of furniture, for example that of the glass sideboard with mirrored shelves enhancing beautiful dishware sets, the question remains open. Another key aspect has to do with service, whether it contributes to clarifying the respective statuses of guests or to expressing the superiority of those who receive them. Being served first, and thus having the prerogative to begin eating before the rest of the assembled company, is an effective way of signifying pre-eminence. Here, it is relevant to examine the rationale of various arrangements, all the more so knowing that they were to be widely adopted across borders. The famous service à la française, which was codified in the second half of the seventeenth century and lasted until Napoleon III, consisted of laying out all the dishes in advance. What is essential with this kind of configuration is that it gives an impression of abundance and elegant symmetry. The pieces of crockery are placed equidistantly on the table,

78 

J.-P. Daloz

adopting geometrical patterns. Such a concern for order goes back to fifteenth-century Italy, but it was to reach its peak two hundred years later. The containers must be in even numbers, with the exception of the imposing central piece. It is important to compose true works of art (œuvres), both visually and from a gustatory point of view, enriched with hors d’œuvres, i.e. side dishes merely associated to the main ones, but where the know-how and originality of the chef as well as the refinement of the house can be fully expressed. Such conspicuous elements notwithstanding, it may be considered that with the service in the French style, appearance prevails over gastronomy, in so far as it intermingles flavours in a more or less felicitous way. Besides, dishes tend to get cold, even though plate-warmers can be provided. Above all, one feels compelled to eat only what is within one’s reach. Therefore, the placement around the table matters, tureens, terrines and vegetable dishes being accessible to some and not to others. Admittedly, care is usually taken not to put similar foods side by side and there are at least three sequences anyway (soup and fish, meat entrées, and desserts, each served with all sorts of additional preparations). However, the very best and potentially most sought-­ after food can be deliberately placed in front of the persons occupying the highest rank, possibly taking their own tastes into account. The service à la russe, which became fashionable later on, but appeared at the beginning of the nineteenth century, involves a series of pre-filled plates being brought to the diners consecutively. This requires a great deal of coordination in the kitchen and a large number of servants, especially if ‘cloches’ are removed simultaneously to produce a spectacular effect. It has been noted that this type of service is less favourable to conversation, as one is regularly interrupted by the arrival of new plates. An additional constraint concerns the ornamentation of the table, no longer covered with dishes. Centrepieces as well as flowers are thus considered indispensable here. This corresponds to an evolution of elitist logics, with distinction being henceforth much more related to this kind of decorative investment intended to impress guests. One essential point, however, is that all diners are in principle offered the same thing to eat. I could mention many other arrangements, such as the buffet dinner or the cocktail party for example, which are, I think, in line with the French and Russian style of service respectively, but in a lighter version.

5 Food 

79

They too have their distinctive requirements, for instance the obligation to replenish the canapé trays long before they are empty. Non-Western devices (e.g. the Chinese turntable) will be considered later. Lunch or dinner in a restaurant, especially given the ambivalent nature of the situation, half-private, half-public (in the company of acquaintances but under the gaze of strangers), is also a configuration worthy of attention. The reputation of the place, depending on the quality of the food offered, the service, the setting, the social level of the clientele, the prices charged, possibly the necessity to reserve months in advance as well as the hierarchy of tables, are elements contributing significantly to the display of eminence. What can be at stake is therefore both to savour elaborate dishes and to communicate social messages, if only through the frequentation of such and such an establishment or through one’s behaviour with the staff, one’s cosmopolitan knowledge relating to exotic dishes and the proper ways of eating them. That said, there is a world of difference between, say, the muffled atmosphere of isolated rooms in some upscale restaurants and lively halls where ‘quasi-potlatches’ can be witnessed (with wealthy customers vying to order the most expensive bottles, ostentatiously brought to their tables).5 Studying the scenography of meals leads to the consideration of many aspects. They involve, for example, the decoration of the room, the nature of the floor (a parquet having the disadvantage of being noisy, whereas a carpet tends to become impregnated with odours) as well as the more or less comfortable and vulnerable seats (those in luxurious fabric being at the mercy of the guests’ vigilance). The topic of lighting, which we have already come across (Chap. 3), proves particularly interesting. In the past, candles allowed members of the elite to dine late, thus creating a clear contrast with common people unable to afford them. The brighter the more distinctive. However, a subdued light, appropriate for small gatherings, has the advantage of blurring possible physical defects, if not the imperfection of what is served. In some cases, supreme attention is paid to the surroundings, likely to leave a memorable impression, while one might soon forget what was served. Besides, the meal may happen to be an expected appendage to activities deemed far more important (e.g. a shooting party, a concert, a visit of the collections), to which it will merely appear as a prelude or a conclusion.

80 

J.-P. Daloz

Food, Cooking and Social Hierarchy Obviously enough, food itself often plays a central role in distinctive strategies. The manifestation of this is sometimes quantitative (according to our usual criteria of profusion, variety and size), but above all qualitative. This may refer to expensive, exotic or even monopolised ingredients (such as the intoxicating pepper plant formerly reserved for Polynesian dignitaries), to particularly sophisticated culinary preparations, as well as to aesthetic dimensions. Regarding quantitative expressions, the number of dishes, of courses (traditionally from 3 to 11 in China, for example, up to 30 at the imperial court) and the diversity of what is offered are potentially concerned. It may simply consist in attributing more or less generous portions depending on the status of the guests. Since antiquity, we find evidence of this kind of differentiation.6 It was, however, during the medieval banquets that it became of major importance. At a time when elites ate a lot of meat, the quantitative clearly prevailed over the qualitative, even if spectacular birds began to appear (herons, swans, peacocks presented with their plumage or covered with golden leaves). Symbolically crucial distributions were made: e.g. six partridges for the king, five for a duke, four for an earl.7 These were highly visible markers knowing that an incessant parade of servants, often punctuated by announcements, dramatized them. I would not want to leave this subject without underlining some dissonance regarding the esteem, or condemnation, of the ability to eat large amounts of food. The denunciation of the glutton, from the Roman satirists, Dante and Erasmus to La Bruyère (cf. his portrait of the voracious Gnathon) was a recurrent exercise in numerous contexts. On the other hand, the ability to eat for hours on end has sometimes been admired and praised. Thus, during the interminable banquets of the Third Republic in France, people were happy to challenge each other in this respect. The plumpness liable to result from such behaviour was perceived quite differently according to the cultural environment. I will return to this issue in the chapter on physical appearance. For the time being, let me mention that etiquette books on appropriate manners have gone so far as to

5 Food 

81

advise nubile girls to eat at home before going to a dinner party, in order to make a good impression afterwards by nibbling elegantly. Qualitative distinction requires more lengthy developments. I will begin by recalling that this was the result of an evolution: that of civilisations (or at least of privileged categories) whose members regularly ate their fill and were now inclined to distinguish themselves by varying their menus and going in search of ever more subtle dishes. Significant clues here are the advent of gastronomy books and the fact that the composition of dishes became a topic of discussion. From a comparative perspective, I find it more convincing to argue that some cultures attach greater importance to ‘culinary excellence’ than others (if that makes sense at all). In many societies, people seem to stick to recipes that have been handed down from generation to generation, and following them scrupulously is a source of prestige. On the other hand, there are elitist contexts that prize innovation and endlessly try to outdo rivals in this way.8 As briefly mentioned already, examining this qualitative dimension leads to dissociating the question of ingredients from that of culinary preparation and possible aesthetic elements. In practice, these criteria can obviously overlap: many dishes calling for both rare products and special know-how. With regard to components, it is important to check whether roughly the same types are used at different social levels or whether some are exclusively found at the highest one. In the second occurrence, one must check to what extent this is linked to difficulties in obtaining the product, to cost, to the potential aura of foods that come from very far away, or to pure convention. These aspects could, of course, be combined, as in the famous case of spices. It is well known that the latter, beyond the flavours they confer on the dishes, have long had an emblematic side as an established way to convey superior status in reference to a whole set of exotic representations. It is undeniable, however, that their valued distinctiveness has diminished as they have become more widely available.9 Generally speaking, looking at the dynamics of prestige in this domain is often a source of surprise. For instance, it is quite fascinating to learn that there was a time when celery was considered a respectable enough vegetable in the United States to be placed as a bouquet in the middle of the table, or that it is an ingredient gaining its credentials in

82 

J.-P. Daloz

contemporary Chinese gastronomy. I might also mention sardines (one of the first products to be canned), which enjoyed a momentary fame in elitist America.10 Conversely, references to foods with pejorative connotations are particularly noteworthy when they bring a whole segment of society into disrepute (consider the derogatory expression ‘turnip eaters’ in some countries). During the Middle Ages, the serfs were characterised not only by their miserable clothes and squalid dwellings, but also by the fact that they appeared to value food perceived as utterly disgusting (one spoke of ‘horrible brews’), thus suggesting affinities between their physical ugliness and what they swallowed. It was readily asserted that they would have been completely unable to appreciate choice ingredients, had they had access to them. This raises the question of taste, its evolution, the ‘education’ of the palates in relation to what is available or not. Sometimes the divisions are based less on differences in the products consumed than on differences of quality among them, however. Both common people and the elites seem to enjoy the same kind of food, but rather coarse varieties for the former and highly selected ones for the latter. At the Este court, during the Renaissance, everything was thus calibrated: with eight types of bread, four of wine and two of fish, explicitly contributing to underline differences of rank.11 The allocation of meat pieces, given that some are considered superior, lends itself well to messages of this order. At the end of hunting parties, the distribution of more or less prestigious ones, during the ensuing meal or as a gift to allies and relatives, is potentially quite significant. It was even truer in those days when game was an aristocratic monopoly and required the possession of an estate.12 In good Chinese restaurants, it is generally accepted that if ordinary food happens to be served, it must be prepared in a very elaborate way. This brings us to the other side of the qualitative distinction, namely everything that has to do with the culinary (in the sense of the making of dishes). Beyond the frequent use of unusual ingredients and their enrichment with ‘luxurious’ products (truffles, for example), haute cuisine is characterised by the meticulousness involved. It demands long preparations as well as qualified specialists, whether it is a question of following established recipes or claiming to innovate. All this must obviously be

5 Food 

83

seen in relation to the equipment available and technological developments (the advent of the refrigerator, the possibility of cooking at the right temperature precisely, and so on). Comparatively speaking, as with the raw materials used, it is important to ask whether or not culinary aspects play a role regarding social differentiation. Anthropologist Jack Goody was the one who pioneered the question. He notes the rise of an elitist cuisine in many Eurasian contexts, while this was not at all the case in the North Ghanaian communities he had studied extensively. Here we engage into cultural considerations, in relation to dissimilar social structures.13 It should be noted that the treatment of this kind of subject is far from always being convincing. Take, for example, the passages in Distinction that Pierre Bourdieu devotes to the predilection of the working classes for substantial food and the concomitant rejection of fare (like fish) that needs to be eaten in small bites, in total contradiction with their ‘habitus’. Such a vision contrasts culinary subtlety (the parsimonious quantities of the nouvelle cuisine of the 1970s, allowing one to finely express one’s distinction as a gourmet bourgeois) to the universe of truck stops serving hearty dishes.14 However, in the French case, I would argue that one could uphold the opposite thesis of a remarkable fluidity between popular cuisine and that intended for the upper groups.15 After all, this is a country that considers dishes such as cassoulet or bouillabaisse with nationalistic pride, transcending social class. It is not unusual to meet people of modest means who prove to be very knowledgeable when it comes to both food prepared with loving care and wine (notwithstanding their obviously limited purchasing power). What about the famous mères lyonnaises (in the heart of a city that likes to think of itself as the gastronomic capital of the world)? The small restaurants of these female cooks of humble origins became extremely famous in the 1920s and 1930s, attracting celebrities and eventually earning the very coveted three stars in the Michelin guide. They were also to train the most famous chef of the next generation, Paul Bocuse. Haven’t they been the living symbol of this fluidity? Once again, it is important to reason inductively without too many preconceptions, and also to take into consideration the current rise of practices linked to

84 

J.-P. Daloz

dietary and ecological concerns (the ‘slow food’ movement, veganism, and so forth.), which cannot easily be reduced to class behaviour. This brings me to the last qualitative dimension: the aesthetic one. I have already mentioned the fact that certain dishes are both visual and gustatory accomplishments. From the end of the Middle Ages (when, for instance, the feat of cooking the same fish in three different ways was achieved), to the Renaissance, the seventeenth and the nineteenth century (think of the spectacular pieces created by Marie-Antoine Carême, among others), food was likely to become a feast for the eyes. Anyone even slightly acquainted with Chinese cooking knows that there is a long tradition of ornamental dishes that are not intended to be eaten (and can therefore be prepared well in advance). Here we are again dealing with pure signs of distinction, as was also sometimes the case with the service à la française. The grandiloquent designations meant to enhance the nobility of many French dishes (which are often repeated, not without some approximations, in recipe books as well as on restaurant menus abroad) come to mind, as do the poetic menus and emphatic reports of men of letters invited to sumptuous meals as far back as antiquity, or the elevated style of certain gastronomic critics. In China, the purpose of the sophisticated names used is to provide colourful information about the prestigious origin and content of the dishes being savoured.

Place Settings If some prominent houses may boast of offering the very best food, the decoration of the table often proves to matter a great deal as well. Nevertheless, the comparativist would immediately point out that in many cultures what surrounds the food, what contains it (sometimes mere calabashes), is of little consequence. The first concern is what is given to eat. On the other hand, there are civilisations (the Japanese one, for example) that tend to lay more emphasis on the items chosen to magnify the products served.16 In any case, the term ‘place setting’, referring to anything liable to cover the table, is appropriate here. Let us start with the tablecloth. It has long been very important in terms of status because it concealed rather rudimentary tables. From the

5 Food 

85

Middle Ages to the seventeenth century in Europe, it was therefore imperative that it went down to the ground on each side. However, with the advent of fine woodwork, it became conceivable to use slightly shorter ones, exposing the feet. Made of linen, or damask satin, often with pretty patterns revealing themselves under candlelight, the tablecloth represented a valuable part of a young bride’s trousseau (even more so than the, obviously less visible, bed sheets). It was sometimes requested that the tablecloth be folded as much as possible when ironing, making a multitude of small squares of identical size appear. This was proof that it came straight from the linen cupboard (one of the most majestic pieces of furniture in seventeenth-century Holland).17 Later on, the convention of a white tablecloth without the slightest crease was to become the norm. Most interesting from the point of view of distinction is the sub-theme of accessories meant to keep it clean. The knife holder, which can be made of silver, porcelain or crystal with a dried flower inside it, fulfils this function. However, as it became an everyday bourgeois practice, it was eventually considered much more elegant in some circles to change the cutlery after each course.18 Similarly, table mats may have appeared terribly tacky (implying that the host feared for the longevity of her tablecloth and that she did not trust her guests’ ability to eat properly). Nevertheless, varieties that are unusual enough (e.g. made up of fibres from all parts of the world, which will most likely be pointed out) can compensate for this impression. A similar ambiguity applies to those mats placed under decanters, bottles or vases. One wonders whether they are there for protection or to satisfy a concern for propriety.19 The individual napkin, which appeared during the Renaissance, is also an object worthy of study. The distinction here is mainly related to prior folding, which, as we know, can achieve wonders of sophistication. While exploring the boundless libraries of Yale University, I was flipping through a book on Palm Beach villas when I came across a photograph showing the dining room of Donald Trump’s famous Mar-a-Lago residence. The napkins were all horizontal, except for his own cone-shaped one, thus establishing his pre-eminence over the other guests.20 This little piece of cloth is associated with table manners. It should be placed on the lap without being completely unfolded. It is useful for wiping one’s lips delicately and not leaving marks on the glasses, but among upper circles it is

86 

J.-P. Daloz

not really intended to avoid dirtying oneself (in contrast to the popular attitude which consists in slipping it into one’s collar). Let us now turn to a key element: dishware. I have already referred to the divide between the ceremonial and the everyday pieces. The line is not always clear-cut, however, as one may feel required to bring out one’s best dishes on special occasions. In this respect, and echoing the staging mentioned above, it is important to mention that in some banquets of the past, the dishes could be less and less sumptuous the farther one was from the dais reserved for the main dignitaries. Later, ‘service sets’ were to become the norm, combining quantity and quality. At the apex of courts, each major member of the royal family could have his own, with specific designs. The consideration of materials perceived as luxurious or second-rate necessarily leads to a certain relativism, given the highly variable conventions from one culture to another, not to mention technical progress. Thus, in Roman times, ceramic plates were less prized than those made of precious metals. During the Renaissance, the use of the former instead of medieval ‘trenchers’ and wooden bowls became a sign of refinement. It was in this period that the British frenzy for silverware, which so astonished Italian travellers, took hold. Later on, pewter plates and then earthenware (although it is particularly fragile and subject to scratching and blackening) may have appeared as the ultimate. It is also relevant to look at the phenomena of diffusion and the reasons for them. Beautiful Chinese porcelain was to have some success in Persia due to the religious prohibition against eating from gold or silver plates. In the Netherlands, in addition to its aesthetic qualities, practical considerations seem to have come into play since the seventeenth century, especially the property of not retaining the smell of food.21 The craze for the new exotic hot drinks, American chocolate, then Asian tea and African/Arabic coffee, not only led to elitist rituals, but also to the development of novel pieces of crockery (teapots, fine cups with handles and saucers, etc.), eminently distinctive.22 A remarkable aspect is that among the wealthy in England it has become the done thing to pour tea first, followed by a drop of milk. This was a way of distinguishing oneself from the predominant use among the lower classes, at a time when this beverage was beginning to be widely available. As a matter of

5 Food 

87

fact, the latter being obliged to use cheap, poor-quality cups, it was essential to start with the (cold) milk, because suddenly pouring a hot liquid risked cracking them. The novelist Nancy Mitford, who wrote humorous books about the eccentricities of the local aristocracy, was to coin the acronym M. I. F. (‘milk in first’) to refer to the working class. Of course, sets of dishes also include other containers. From the point of view of the history of social distinction, developments have, for example, involved the advent of pieces following the contours of new foods (e.g. curved for bananas, when they were still an unusual fruit in Europe). I will not go back over the role of imposing central decorations within the service à la russe, but it is appropriate to mention those prestigious accessories (ewers, salt cellars, etc.) sometimes made by famous craftsmen and called ‘objects of dignity’ in the courts. One thinks especially of the ‘nef ’, a piece of silverware in the shape of a ship which indicated the place of the prince and contained his cutlery, his napkin, some salt, a toothpick, and even poison-detecting substances. Padlocked or fitted with a security device, they were to last until the Edwardian era in England. Cutlery is another domain providing rich distinctive potential. If the spoon is often a basic instrument for both common people and elites, it should be mentioned that some cultures have produced particularly beautiful ones. We find, for example, very singular specimens among the Yurok Indians of the American Pacific coast, well known thanks to the work of Alfred Kroeber. Archaeologists and historians have also highlighted their function as status markers in many early medieval societies. In my view, the most impressive were the large ones favoured at the Ottoman court to serve oneself from collective dishes. Being made of agate, amber, tortoise shell, coral, or decorated with precious stones, they were to become a major symbol of elegance.23 As far as knives are concerned, the preference has long been for personal instruments, which were indeed more like daggers used to prick pieces after putting a little salt on the tip. The lord of the place could have his solemnly brought in, while presenting a beautifully adorned one to his principal guest. The advent of the round-tipped knife, compatible with female handling, is rather late. The cutlery was, of course, to diversify, offering models respectively intended for the cutting of fish, cheese,

88 

J.-P. Daloz

desserts, without forgetting the one dedicated to collecting crumbs, reserved for the servants. The fork has been studied especially in relation to the process of civilisation, allowing one to abstain from touching the food (except bread) and to keep one’s body impeccably clean. In this regard, however, it should be pointed out that eating with the fingers can be based on pretty strict distinctive codes (typically involving the exclusive use of the right hand and never beyond the second phalanx). Being more elegant to handle than the spoon or the knife, which it has partly supplanted, the fork was initially met with a marked reluctance due to its diabolical connotations (it was long forbidden in convents), its effeminate image (it was used affectedly by the minions of Henri III, the French sovereign who tried to introduce it at court) or from the point of view of the denigrators of luxury, who found this accessory to be fundamentally unnecessary. About cutlery in general (I could equally have mentioned ivory or jade chopsticks), similar distinctive features may prevail, including the inlay of coats of arms, of initials, or the use of extremely beautiful boxes for storage. Above all, quantitative logics frequently matter. Suffice it to think of the strong impression made by shimmering assortments, perfectly aligned on three sides of the plates. In the nineteenth century, there was to be a clear escalation with the introduction of the tiny salt spoon, the coffee spoon (preferably silver), the flat ice cream spoon, the caviar spoon, but also melon forks, lemon forks, cucumber forks, lobster forks, crayfish forks, cake forks (with a sharp edge), not forgetting those meant to hold peaches or pears that were supposed to be peeled delicately with the appropriate knife. Moreover, novel instruments appeared: tongs in particular (for snails, sugar, seafood, asparagus), as well as oyster ladles or grape scissors. This has been interpreted as a bourgeois preoccupation with differentiation, at a time when the fork was becoming commonplace, and not unrelated to the consumption of unusual foods by no means within everyone’s reach. Etiquette books on table manners began to depict these new objects and practices. To have a theoretical knowledge of them was not enough, however. One had to effectively master their use. Of course, it was always possible to follow the example of one’s neighbours, but at the risk of appearing ignorant. Indeed it was not infrequently used as a kind of test

5 Food 

89

to assess whether or not one belonged to ‘society’. As mentioned before, the task of the guests is greatly facilitated in those cultures (mainly east-­ Asian) where propriety requires pre-cutting and shelling of food. Paradoxically, when this is not the case, the ability to get through this kind of perilous ordeal with dexterity can prove to be a distinguishing factor. There is also much to be said about drinkware: from the days of the craters and pewter cups set with precious stones (covered with a lid for safety reasons) to the time when glassware replaced goldsmithing. Whether in shiny metal or sparkling crystal, goblets certainly add to the sparkle of any dinner party. From the point of view of social eminence, aesthetic refinements must be taken into account. Historically, they were notably related to the progress made by the famous glass masters of Venice, to the advent of stemmed glasses, and then to engraving, resulting from the technique initiated in Bohemia. The size and shape of glasses may differ according to the type of wine served (whose vintages can be proudly announced). The ways of drinking are also worthy of attention, in that they are likely to mobilise all sorts of codes. I am thinking, for example, of the former requirement to raise the cup to one’s lips only when the host himself does so, or of the era when glasses were not placed on the tables but handed out on demand by servants placed behind the guests. More subtly, the question arises as to whether ostentatious containers are the dominant feature, or whether a careful selection of those supposed to bring out the bouquet of the wines and the colour of the liqueurs, should prevail.

Notes 1. Cf. B.  Hayden, The Power of Feasts: From Prehistory to the Present, Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2014. 2. Specialists go so far as to believe that much is at stake from the foetal stage and that the sensation of appetite is not universal. This casts doubt on structuralist claims (in the tradition of Lévi-Strauss) to identify invariants. On the other hand, the contributions of ethnologists, but

90 

J.-P. Daloz

also of historians who highlight remarkable developments, appear decisive here. 3. There is a considerable literature on the subject. I refer mainly to P. Wiessner & W. Schiefenhövel (eds), Food and the Status Quest: An Interdisciplinary Perspective, Providence: Berghahn Books, 1996; to R. Strong, Feast: A History of Grand Eating, London: Jonathan Cape, 2002; and to the special issue of the journal World Archaeology, vol. 34/3 (2003), entitled ‘When is Food a Luxury?’, edited by M. van der Veen. 4. I have in mind the marble one in the palace of the Ile de la Cité in Paris, of which the French king Charles V made good use in 1378 when he received his uncle, the Emperor. During Roman antiquity, tables could be made of carved amber, ivory, rock crystal, or citrus wood which had a highly prized smell. 5. Regarding expensive bottles, from the reading of anecdotal books on the ways of the very wealthy, it seems that sending a private jet to retrieve some from the cellar of one residence on the other side of the world is a classic. During, the Edwardian era, an employee could be sent to Moscow by train to buy caviar. 6. On Rome, cf. A. B. Kuhn, ‘The Dynamics of Social Status and Prestige in Pliny, Juvenal and Martial’, in her edited volume, Social Status and Prestige in the Graeco-Roman World, Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 2015, p. 23. This did not go without raising basic questions among some Greek philosophers. Was it absolutely desirable that identical rations be served? Shouldn’t we take into account the respective appetite, size and physical activity of each person? Anthropology shows that primacy can be dissimilar from one community to another. It may be understood that the elders are entitled to larger shares or, on the contrary, that the young warriors (on whose vigour the survival of the group depends) must be granted this privilege. 7. B.  Laurioux, ‘Table et hiérarchie sociale à la fin du Moyen Âge’, in C. Lambert (ed.), Du manuscrit à la table. Essais sur la cuisine au Moyen Âge et répertoire des manuscrits médiévaux contenant des recettes culinaires, Paris: Champion-Slatkine, 1992, pp.  87–108. As Fanny Cosandey rightly points out: ‘The lord imposes himself by his ability to distribute as well as to grant himself the best share, like those chiefs who divided the booty after having duly served themselves’. Le rang, Paris: Gallimard, 2016, p. 33 (my translation).

5 Food 

91

8. In ancient times, one thinks of the famous colony of Sybaris which gave rise to the adjective ‘sybaritic’ and rewarded the authors of new dishes every year; or of the court of Persia which, if we are to believe Xenophon, sent emissaries in search of ‘pleasant things to eat and drink’. From a traditional Greek point of view, the quest for culinary enjoyment was rather condemnable. See J. Wilkins, The Boastful Chef: The Discourse of Food in Ancient Greek Comedy, Oxford: Oxford UP, 2000 (especially the chapter on ‘Luxurious eating’). 9. In fact, moderate seasoning has become the norm in some European countries, allowing for a better sense of the food’s own flavour. But this largely depends on cultural conventions (with an obvious North–South divide). In the tropics, spices are used to make up for the relatively tasteless nature of staple foods (such as yams and manioc). 10. S. Williams, Savory Suppers and Fashionable Feasts: Dining in Victorian America, Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1996 [1985]. 11. G. Guerzoni, ‘Liberalitas, Magnificentia, Splendour: The Classic Origins of Italian Renaissance Lifestyles’, in N. De Marchi & C. D. W Goodwin (eds), Economic Engagements with Art, Durham: Duke UP, 1999. At large official receptions these days (say at the Élysée Palace), it is well known that the sophistication of the meals still depends on the level of the people received as well as the importance of the event. 12. Cf. S.  E. Whyman, Sociability and Power in Late-Stuart England: The Cultural Worlds of the Verneys 1660–1720, Oxford: Oxford UP, 1999. In the light of ethnographic knowledge, however, it should be noted that the modalities are quite varied. Among the Shona of present-day Zimbabwe, the oldest are given the neck of the chicken, which refers to their role as intermediaries between the ancestors (to whom the head corresponds) and the rest of the group (who are supposed to eat the body of the birds). There would also be a lot to say about the symbolism of Indian food. 13. Cooking, Cuisine and Class: A Study in Comparative Sociology, Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1982. One could elaborate on the greater or lesser curiosity regarding the cuisine of others or on the role of imperialism (from the Roman period onwards) as a provider of novel products, frequently adopted for the purpose of distinction. 14. Distinction, op. cit., Chap. 4. 15. See in this respect the book by M. Ferrières, Nourritures canailles, Paris: Le Seuil, 2007 (in particular, the chapter on tripe, which went from

92 

J.-P. Daloz

being an elitist dish to a popular one, and then back to being an elitist one). 16. M. Pitelka discusses the revered objects deployed for the tea ceremony in the sixteenth century, which (just like famous swords) had their own names and were passed from collection to collection as conquests were made, or as gifts between feudal lords. Which personality had access to it, on what occasion, was meticulously recorded in books kept by the great masters (Spectacular Accumulation: Material culture, Tokugawa Ieyasu, and Samurai Sociability, Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 2016). 17. S. de Zoete, ‘Laying the Table’, in R. Baer (ed.), Class Distinctions: Dutch Paintings in the Age of Rembrandt and Vermeer, Boston: MFA Publications, 2015, pp. 75 ff. 18. Cf. C. Marenco, Manières de table, modèles de mœurs: 17ème–20ème siècle, Cachan: Éditions de l’École normale supérieure, 1992, pp. 11 and 67. 19. One thinks of the analyses of J. Baudrillard (see Pour une critique de l’économie politique du signe, Paris: Gallimard, 1972, pp. 26–27) on the logic of redundancy, which consists in underlining one’s membership in the ‘petty bourgeoisie’ by a multiplication of signs (double or even triple curtains, and so on). 20. R.  Schezen, Palm Beach Houses, New  York: Rizzoli International Publications, 1991, p. 70. 21. T. Brook, Vermeer’s Hat: The Seventeenth Century and the Dawn of the Global World, London: Profile Books, 2009, pp. 62 and 72. 22. Y.F. You (ed.), Coffee, Tea, and Chocolate: Consuming the World, New Haven: Yale UP, 2016. 23. S. Faroqhi, A Cultural History of the Ottomans: The Imperial Elite and its Artefacts, London: I.B. Tauris, 2016, pp. 162–163.

6 Burials

I cannot close this first part on external signs of distinction without dedicating a few pages to funerary monuments, and more generally to the staging of social status in relation to the dead. It is a field that has been addressed by several disciplines, from archaeology to anthropology, from history to sociology, but in a fairly dispersed manner. Beyond the fact of honouring the memory of the deceased, funerals frequently represent key occasions to celebrate the rank of a family or even to demonstrate the eminence of an entire community. Likewise, imposing tombs are liable to make significant contributions to the stature of their surviving descendants. That being said, nothing is less universal, or in other words more cultural, than the relationship to death. Rooted in very dissimilar sorts of imaginary, the practices involved often prove rather contradictory. For instance, fire will be an essential vector of purification and presumed rebirth in some environments (possibly also leading to the simultaneous destruction of prestigious goods), but the infamous lot (anticipating hell) of the witch, the heretic and the parricide, in others. It is therefore against a background of great variety that this chapter will unfold. It will successively examine rituals exalting elitist grandeur and (when applicable) the types of tombs, their location, external markers and contents. © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 J.-P. Daloz, Expressions of High Status, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3_6

93

94 

J.-P. Daloz

Funerals In view of its impressive and enduring character, there is probably no more striking manifestation of prominence than a large-scale memorial. However, in many contexts, funerary ceremonies happen to play a much more decisive role when it comes to distinction. Of course, burial is only one of the possible methods. When custom requires cremation, immersion, the exposure of the body at the top of a ‘tower of silence’ overflown by scavengers, protocol is all the more important as the body is destined to disappear quickly.1 From the standpoint of comparative sociology, the question is whether or not there is a clear difference of treatment according to the social level. Whereas within relatively egalitarian communities, the conduct to adopt could be uniform and immutable, in highly unequal societies, slaves or the destitute were seldom entitled to any kind of memorial attention. There is ample evidence of outright abandonment among nomadic populations, while mass graves were the fate of the majority in urban areas.2 During Greek antiquity, however, financing the decent burial of the poorest was an excellent way to build a reputation as a generous and caring personality. It should be added that deliberately degrading procedures could be reserved for the opponent, or for the ‘class enemy’ during revolutionary phases. One thinks of the image of the warlord drinking from the skull of a finally-defeated, age-old rival, or that of the guillotined aristocrats, crowded naked and bleeding deep inside a hastily-dug hole— as if it were a matter of inflicting on them post-mortem the degrading equality they had abhorred during their lifetime. However, this type of consideration must be balanced by taking account of the multiplicity of beliefs held with regard to the deceased. Ethnological, but also historical works, show how much some communities fear that the dead will come back to haunt them under various forms. If, on top of that, they are recognised as having the power to deeply influence good or ill fortune, diseases, soil fertility and the weather, it is absolutely essential to gain their favour. This may take the form of assiduous ancestor worship, nurturing hopes of protection or attempts to defuse dreaded hostility. One can easily understand that within this kind of

6 Burials 

95

spiritual universe, the priority will not necessarily be to exhibit social cleavages. Yet it seems less appropriate to contrast abstract sociological views, in terms of the ‘instrumentalisation of death’ with the anxious worlds of superstition, than to inquire about possible distinctive dimensions in relation to cultural injunctions. A preliminary question is to what extent this is indeed a major means of demonstrating one’s social value. In that case, the comparativist might point out all sorts of modalities. For example, there are contexts where extreme emotional outbursts are required, with a large number of weeping females recruited for the occasion. There are others in which distress is instead expressed by the most dignified restraint. Women, in particular, have to prove their irreproachable mastery of the codes of mourning (e.g. in China, or within the European bourgeoisie of the nineteenth century). They are told to internalise their feelings and they know how to display attitudes in accordance with their degree of proximity to the deceased. Here, distinction is primarily a matter of self-control and strict adherence to behavioural protocols. One may also observe one-upmanship regarding celebrations. At the time of the Neapolitan viceroyalty, when a Spanish sovereign succumbed, each locality in the region tried to outdo its rivals by erecting the most sumptuous catafalque (with, of course, a purely symbolic coffin). In France, the tradition of the ‘tripartition of the body’, which consisted in separating the bones, heart and entrails of the kings, queens or princes, and placing them in three different, highly significant places (a ritual born under the Capetian dynasty and still followed at the beginning of the nineteenth century), did increase the number of occasions for veneration. If we refer to the Africanist anthropological literature, illustrations of ‘second funeral’ years later, with a turn over and a re-adornment of the skeleton, or even a new burial at some distance (providing further potentiality for ostentation) are not unknown.3 Rather than superficially mentioning many different scenarios, however, it is appropriate to go a little bit into detail and, in particular, to relate what is at stake here with facets discussed above in this book or to be dealt with later. A first heading concerns the improvement of the physical appearance of the corpse. Especially in the case of death resulting from injuries or

96 

J.-P. Daloz

certain diseases, it may be crucial to try and remove anything liable to undermine the image of the deceased. Quite often, basic grooming designed to give a semblance of a lifelike expression will be considered sufficient. If this has become a widespread operation nowadays, entrusted to the good care of professionals, it has not always been so. Such interventions used to be reserved for the elite exclusively, and not even everybody at this level. From the end of the Middle Ages and during the Renaissance, in France and in England, it is well known that much more importance was attached to the effigy of a late king (his ‘representative body’ honoured for reasons of dynastic continuity, pending the coronation of the heir apparent), while the corpse, naked in the shroud, was hardly attended to.4 Conversely, in some cultures, not only were great efforts made to preserve as much as possible the distinguished appearance of the eminent deceased (who could be, for example, covered with expensive perfumes in Rome), but this aspiration went so far as embalming. One thinks of Pharaonic Egypt here and of the long process of mummification (involving the removal of organs and the many salting operations) which was to spread between social categories within that civilisation, and beyond. It should be recalled that Nero had his second wife, Poppaea Sabina, embalmed before she was transported to the mausoleum of Augustus. As early as the first century AD, this foreign practice was adopted by various members of the imperial elite, largely for purposes of distinction, it seems, contrasting with ordinary cremation and burial procedures.5 We also know of South American equivalents (among the Incas in particular), along with Chinese, Tibetans or Japanese methods. In addition, the issue of the attire of the dead deserves to be addressed in that it reveals important cultural cleavages. Even families with limited financial means often make it a point of honour to adorn the departed person with his or her best clothing. For a long time, in many Western societies, it used to be the man’s marriage suit. On the other hand, the white wedding dress of the spouse was not deemed suitable, as it is a symbol of virginity (unless a belt had expressed that state, in which case the rest of the outfit could be reused). In sub-Saharan Africa, the deceased are sometimes wrapped with bandages. Here the nature of the distinction can be either quantitative (the amount referring to their social status, as

6 Burials 

97

with some ethnic groups in Cameroon) or qualitative (the Malagasy spending a fortune on very elegant silk ones, for instance). Among the Kuba of the Congo, an expensive traditional costume is imperative, even if the deceased persons would never have worn one in their lifetime. In other places, brand new garment is required. At the elite level, the preoccupation with mortuary adornment can be observed since antiquity, including when the attire is destined to burn with the corpse. In that case, other luxurious fabrics can be used to cover the funerary urn at a later stage. However, there is nothing systematic about such a concern. For example, in the medieval Christian world, ‘dressy burials’ were denigrated as a pagan custom. The soul being seen as fundamental and the body as a mere container, the cadaver was supposed to be simply wrapped in a shroud. Out of a desire for repentance, very high-status figures went as far as to express the will to be buried in a coarse monk’s frock, or dressed as pilgrims, in order to appear as humbly as possible before their Creator. It remains that liberties were frequently taken with the instructions of the Church, sometimes by leaders of the institution themselves. A similar theme of interest here is that of mourning clothes, which often prove to be regulated by rather strict provisions, with adjustments month after month and depending on the degree of closeness to the deceased. The devout observance of such conventions was likely to entail considerable expenditure and contribute to social distinction. Still in relation to prestige goods, a noteworthy element of the funeral procession concerns vehicles. In some ancient societies, processions included not only the one carrying the deceased, but others ostensibly exhibiting precious objects destined to accompany them in the tomb. Until the early twentieth century, we have many illustrations of long processions with the hearse preceded and followed by ‘mourning carriages’ draped in dark fabrics and drawn exclusively by black horses. Dark-­ coloured limousines have been playing an equal role since. An important factor here is that of visibility. This is a moment when the event becomes more public, being accessible to just anyone. A very remarkable dimension, quite often, is the slowness of pace.6 We have testimonies, both in Europe and in China, of parades that purposefully lasted for hours, going through all the city streets, as if such processions were absolutely essential

98 

J.-P. Daloz

to the expression of social stature. A heavy silence is usually required, unless drums, or other instruments, contribute to the impression of gravity. However, there are cultural settings in which the climax is the meal and, more generally, activities peripheral to the funeral itself (e.g. an expected wake). It is crucial to rise to the occasion, even if considerable debt is incurred, as may be the norm in China or Oceania. Some people in Latin America are setting aside as much money as possible in anticipation of the reception of many guests at their own service. In addition to the culinary aspects, with their quantitative/qualitative variations analysed in the previous chapter, the challenge seems to be to invite and satisfy a multitude of relatives, allies, clients and even entire communities, whose greater or lesser degree of mobilisation will be a decisive indicator of the calibre of the family of the deceased. This is a first facet of distinction through the entourage (the other concerning the phenomenon of slaves and concubines that used to be immolated and buried at the same time—to which some reflections will be devoted in the next section). To these large gatherings are usually brought many gifts. They may be intended for the deceased, his/her immediate relatives, or more indirectly for a deity. These exchanges, quite characteristic of the complexities inherent in the symbolic properties of the (counter-)gift (cf. Chap. 18 below), are likely to be prolonged within the context of the reiteration of condolences, the hosts being obliged to enduringly welcome even second-rate visitors with a generosity that does not tolerate any laxity. Finally, it must be mentioned that there are also environments in which the long-term trend has been to avoid any ceremonial excess. This is notably the case of some Protestant communities, with distinction being mainly conveyed through orations.

Funerary Monuments After these preliminary considerations, let us turn to graves proper. For the researcher particularly interested in their distinctive virtues, the first point to take into account is their location. Unless there is a deliberate intention to conceal their whereabouts, the graves of important

6 Burials 

99

people are often located in strategic sites liable to attract attention (e.g. on a burial mound or in a passage way). If we are confronted not with individual graves or isolated vaults, but insertions among large collective complexes, this kind of concern may be expressed by the fact of resting in any place perceived as superior. At times, what counts is the proximity with a founding and eminently prestigious tomb (that of a saint, for example) which became a place of pilgrimage and strongly encouraged people to be buried nearby. Certain parts of necropolises (usually the older ones, or those on the heights) often prove to be reserved for major dynasties. Within churches, it was deemed more prestigious to be located close to the chancel, unless the family had its own chapel.7 We know that some ecclesiastical authorities eventually rejected intramural burials, due to lack of space and because this involved the transfer or even the elimination of venerable remains, not to forget, increasingly, hygienic reasons. Beyond the visits to the graves of one’s ancestors, large democratised cemeteries are now legitimate places for strolling, and the social cleavages between various sections or alleys are often clearly visible to visitors.8 In fact, we find here a phenomenon rather similar to the one I have described earlier (Chap. 3) regarding residential avenues, namely that elitist emulation leads to one-upmanship (in this case, concerning funeral architecture), contributing to a collective distinction. This brings us to the issue of the appearance of monuments which is frequently the decisive element. The most spectacular achievements range from the Egyptian pyramids to the Taj Mahal, the giant tumuli of the Neolithic, megalithic art or the mausoleum of the first Qin Emperor. We are dealing with sorts of ‘retorts to death’, aiming for eternity, but embedded in very dissimilar systems of beliefs (which have in no way prevented dogmatic generalisations).9 There is much to compare in this regard, whether one considers the various logics of grandeur (extreme ­visibility/ concealment, quantitative/qualitative symbolism) or other aspects (the expected ‘comfort’, etc.). I will come back to this with respect to the contents of the tombs. Beside such extraordinary accomplishments, it is important to look at more widespread cases and their possible evolutions. For instance, in Medieval Europe, experts note the advent during the thirteenth century of flat, engraved tombstones made of very expensive materials, as a new

100 

J.-P. Daloz

source of distinction. At the pinnacle of the hierarchy, i.e. at the level of the royal family, dukes or prelates, the funerary monuments could be ostentatious, sometimes within the framework of religious foundations financed by a prince aiming to prove his Christian devotion. The idea here was to support a certain monastic order which would eventually be entrusted with the task of accommodating the final resting place of its protector (often already under construction during his lifetime). Following the model of the Sainte-Chapelle pioneered by Louis IX in Paris, said institutions were far from always demonstrating severe monastic austerity. On the contrary, armorial bearings could be omnipresent and the buildings competed in splendour, adding a new chapter in the history of funerary art. One saw, for example, processions of ‘stone mourners’ appear, flanking magnificent sarcophagi topped by imposing recumbent statues (as in the famous case of the Dukes of Burgundy). This pattern was to be widely adopted. Furthermore, for the sake of dynastic legitimation, tombs supposed to contain the remains of distant ancestors (formerly at the head of regions whose loyalty was still essential) could be sometimes added. Touching upon the subject of statuary invites us to pay closer attention to the representations of the glorified dead. The erection of statues is a social practice that obviously dates back to antiquity, with the ambition of conferring a kind of eternal memory (although they are subject to deterioration). Hellenists relate it to the process of individualisation which gradually took place in Greek civilisation, despite the fact that many statues proved to be stereotypical (especially the female ones). The initiative to raise them could come from the family of the deceased, but also from a city wishing to honour one of its distinguished citizens. In any case, this topic has given rise to brilliant analyses, mostly regarding spatial settings, leading to questions that will be dealt with in the third part of this book. A statue is all the more visible when it is isolated, or when it clearly towers over a grouping (hence the role of pedestals). Sometimes, the set has been designed from the beginning (possibly including exchanges of glances between the statues, or taking into account what they gaze upon for all eternity). Quite often, however, the structuring is the result of successive additions, eventually producing a somewhat anarchic impression.10

6 Burials 

101

This theme of the representations of deceased elites actually cuts across a number of aspects of eminence that will be discussed further below. Are they shown as they looked at the time of their death, with their eyes closed, or in all the splendour of their youth (for the ladies), of full maturity (for the men)? Is the image offered realistic (the face possibly having been executed from a death mask) or is it highly idealised? Are potential physical disfigurements (due to old age or resulting from a fatal illness) erased or at least softened? Are decisive episodes suggested? Also, the question arises as to who appears to be celebrated first and foremost: the deceased, the patron who paid for the expenses incurred (a frequent case in ancient Greece11), or the renowned author of the work? And lastly, who exactly is honoured? A single person, a couple, the dynasty? All these alternatives are likely to highlight significant cleavages that should not be overlooked. This becomes even more apparent if we include all sorts of peripheral motifs (from angels to very elaborate Last Judgement scenes in the Middle Ages12), not forgetting of course epitaphs. Studies in funerary epigraphy often prove most instructive for the analyst of social distinction. Whether praise is expressed in a conventional way or reflects a desire for originality, it informs us about those ideals that are deemed particularly crucial within cultural repertoires. In addition to the designation of who is buried (preceded, for example, by the Latin Hic jacet—here lies), the mention of moral qualities, important functions and indeed anything liable to contribute to fame, is a good indicator of the aspects held to be worthy of admiration at the top of a society. Ultimately, even deliberate euphemisms and discreet lettering are symptomatic. Epitaphs prompt the question of the exaltation of individuals (who may have wanted to write their own), of a whole lineage, or a combination of both. The accumulation of social achievements thus articulated generates a powerful effect of distinction, conducive to symbolic competition within cemeteries.13 Another important subject is that of the contents of the tombs, which raises a number of fascinating issues. Beyond the containers themselves, i.e. the coffins (possibly made of precious wood, enhanced with bronze or gilded nails), urns frequently decorated from early antiquity onwards, chests, cases, and even the whole burial chamber, it is appropriate to deal here with everything that archaeologists group together under the

102 

J.-P. Daloz

heading of ‘grave furnishings’. In many civilisations, the most remarkable possessions of the deceased followed them to their graves. These were often exotic and rare items that bore witness to their stature. Whether these prestigious possessions were gently placed around the body or spectacularly thrown away in the grave, there was a certain degree of haughtiness involved in such symbolically powerful gestures which reinforced the image of a clan or a community (at least as long as the oral memory of the event remained). The same is true of funeral pyres in some traditions, where what had belonged to an illustrious deceased person could disappear instantly and forever. This leads us to consider the crucial problem of which items are to be permanently removed from the sight of the living, or to be preserved and transmitted. The heirs or the self-proclaimed successors were probably tempted to keep the most beautiful objects for their own glorification. If this makes sense at all, a distinction can be made here between the ‘personal effects’ of a chief (difficult to strip him of ) and emblems of authority (liable to be salvaged). However, with regard to weapons and ornaments, the question could be raised. It seems to me that two different logics are potentially at work, which were probably constrained by cultural traditions anyway. The appropriation of highly-valued pieces can be interpreted in terms of a quest for status legitimisation or merely express a mundane aspiration to dignity based on external signs. On the other hand, It should be understood that a final disappearance could also partake of a strategy of distinction based on ‘conspicuous waste’, manifesting in this way the greatness of the deceased and indirectly that of the surviving relatives.14 However, when one examines practices closely, many more scenarios emerge. Archaeologists sometimes discover that elites were buried with substitutes of prized objects (miniaturised, or of non-precious material), that their swords were deliberately twisted, that all sorts of artefacts are broken, vases smashed, beads from necklaces scattered. This may have been related to the fear of looting. This is a very interesting theme indeed, which leads to interrogations as to whether plundering could be by rival groups in the vicinity, the work of foreign profaners centuries later, or members of the community concerned themselves. We know of rulers who asked right-hand men to go and retrieve valuable pieces from the

6 Burials 

103

graves of their ancestors. In any case, the risks involved explain that precaution was often taken: either a constant surveillance or the setting of traps, but also measures related to superstitions and taboos likely to be of some efficacy, at least in the eyes of the locals.15 Sociologically speaking, it is relevant to note that the radical withdrawal of a vast amount of luxury goods from circulation (by burial or destruction) could help to reduce social gaps. The same was true of large-­ scale systematic redistributions. However, from a comparative perspective, a little bit of relativism is required here. To illustrate, the Romans ended up prohibiting the burial of gold objects, breaking with the Etruscan tradition. What shocked them was therefore the opposite. Still on the subject of the contents of tombs, one must mention the cases of beings (wives, concubines, servants, favourite animals) immolated or forced to sacrifice themselves The question is whether we are dealing with a logic of prestige, of extension of comfort, or a mixture of both. This kind of custom poses, in fact, stimulating problems of interpretation regarding prevailing codes, quite characteristic of those with which analysts are confronted. Several hypotheses seem plausible to me in connection with convictions about the afterlife. Perhaps it was presumed that the beyond is in the continuity of the first existence. In this case, it was important to prolong one’s usual way of life by keeping those who particularly contributed to it close by.16 Or one anticipated a very competitive world in which it would be essential to keep demonstrating one’s status through the display of key signs. Alternatively, the concern might have been to look good in front of the ancestors one expected to join. However, we cannot entirely dismiss the scenario according to which a community’s belief is that there is no afterlife whatsoever. Here, prestigious goods in the tombs would only serve as a lasting testimony of the rank of the deceased persons and of their relatives. If remnants of cosmetics in the tombs seem to point to the maintenance of one’s post-mortem appearance, what about food items? Were they intended for the dead and their possible entourage, or as offerings with a view of being in the deities’ good graces? Likewise, were the (often-­ dismantled) carts meant to provide transportation to the super-terrestrial world? Once there? Or were they mere assets inextricably associated with the deceased? With regard to many ancient periods, we can do no more

104 

J.-P. Daloz

than conjecture what the meanings may have been, unless we fall into the trap of over-interpretations.17 This is not to say that specialists are not in a position to deduce clues about the social organisation, or to reconstruct dynamics on the basis of what is found in the graves. For example, the exhumation of young children adorned with jewellery suggests a society in which status was assigned from birth, irrespective of merit and concrete achievements, if not to mechanisms of dynastic succession. Similarly, the observation that during the course of the Middle Ages in Europe, people were less and less frequently buried with objects ‘useful’ on earth provides information about the dynamics of conceptions of the afterlife. To conclude with an illustration of a completely different and much more recent nature, the advent of pet cemeteries in certain cities such as New York (which was originally an elitist phenomenon before becoming more democratic) informs us not only of the importance that pets may now have, but also of the possible ‘instrumentalisation’ of such places for the purpose of showing off wealth. It should be pointed out that there is a whole trade in this area (offering various types of graves, funeral services, even the intervention of a priest), the question being once again to know who, between the owners and the late dogs, cats or birds, is chiefly honoured.18

Notes 1. Which does not mean, of course, that burials are less likely to be preceded by events. 2. Pre-historians point out that for groups without suitable tools (at best, shoulders of horses or bisons), digging a pit was not an easy task and something exceptional. Corpses have long been half-buried. 3. The most famous example is that of several ethnic groups in the Malagasy highlands, studied by M. Bloch. Cf. his Placing the Dead: Tombs, Ancestral Villages and Kinship Organization in Madagascar, Prospect Heights: Waveland, 1994 [1971]. 4. I refer to E.H. Kantorowicz’s classic, The King’s Two Bodies: A Study in Medieval Theology, Princeton: Princeton UP, 1957.

6 Burials 

105

5. Cf. D.B. Counts, ‘Regum Externorum Consuetudine: The Nature and Function of Embalming in Rome’, Classical Antiquity, vol. 15/2 (1996), pp. 189–202. 6. What comes to mind here is the paradoxical case of Victor Hugo, who died in the Parisian avenue bearing his name, but whose remains were taken to the Pantheon in the ‘hearse of the poor’ (according to his will) under the gaze of a good million people, it is told. 7. There would be much to say about social distinction in religious institutions (e.g. seats reserved for notables or auctioned, private crypts, sacraments given first, etc.), not to mention some tacit hierarchies between congregations. 8. Cf. G.W.  McDonogh, Good Families of Barcelona: A Social History of Power in the Industrial Era, Princeton: Princeton UP, 1986, pp. 166–185. 9. With regard to the gigantic achievements of ancient times, one thinks of those Marxist writings which hastened to draw conclusions in terms of mass exploitation for the benefit of a small ruling class. Other authors, though, suggested the (also plausible) hypothesis of extreme collective exhortations relying on a shared fervour. 10. I refer to J. Ma, Statues and Cities: Honorific Portraits and Civic Identity in the Hellenistic World, Oxford: Oxford UP, 2013 (Chapter IV). 11. A. Duplouy, Le prestige des élites. Recherches sur les modes de reconnaissance sociale en Grèce entre les Xe et Ve siècles avant J.-C., Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 2006 (see Chapter 3, entitled ‘Récupérer la mort’). 12. Cf. C. Maneuvrier, ‘Se distinguer au-delà du trépas’, in the book that he co-directed with L. Jean-Marie, Distinction et supériorité sociale (Moyen Âge et époque moderne), Caen: Publications du CRAHM, 2010. 13. In his ethnographic research on social classes in the United States, W.L. Warner did not fail to address such dimensions. Cf. The Living and the Dead: A Study of the Symbolic Life of Americans, New Haven: Yale UP, 1959. 14. Well studied by classical anthropology and theorised by T. Veblen (we know that F. Boas’s work on the ‘potlatch’ had a great influence on him). 15. It should be noted that this does not only affect ancient societies. In New York City, a famous case was widely talked about when the remains of the famous department stores’ owner, A.T. Stewart, were stolen two and a half years after his death, the kidnappers demanding for a ransom of $20,000. He was reburied in a heavily protected crypt and his wealthy

106 

J.-P. Daloz

peers (such as the Vanderbilts) decided to build themselves a highly protected mausoleum on Staten Island as a result. 16. It could be hundreds of sacrificed humans, horses; unless they were represented, as the famous terracotta warriors discovered in Xian. 17. Except if the civilsations concerned had a writing (having been deciphered). Certain aspects can also be elucidated thanks to local ethnographic investigations among contemporary populations. There are communities that see the afterlife as egalitarian, and many for which this is absolutely inconceivable. 18. Cf., for example, S. Brandes, ‘The Meaning of American Pet Cemetery Gravestones’, Ethnology, vol. 48/2 (2009), pp. 99–118. The question of distinction via animals will be dealt with in a separate chapter (Chap. 15), but it is worth recalling here that burial with dogs is a practice dating back to prehistoric times. One found some pets adorned with precious stones in Pharaonic Egypt as well as in the Aztec Tenochtitlan.

Part II Embodied Signs

Interiorisation A sophisticated way of speaking, elegant manners or even just a clear expression of confidence can confer a strong impression of distinction, irrespective of whether or not they are associated with external attributes. In Great Britain, it is said that a lord who happened to be stripped naked and without money would have no difficulty proving his status in a matter of seconds. Embodied signs are at the same time less concrete and more entrenched. They suggest that some social actors are intrinsically superior, as if this predominance emanated from their very person. As such, they are often more likely to convince doubtful interlocutors than would other clues. This is so because the signs in question are the result of long-learning processes and prolonged immersion (over several generations, it is commonly assumed) within circles cultivating these kinds of qualities.1 Whereas a nouveau riche can readily afford luxury homes, expensive vehicles and clothing, or to hire servants and decorators for example, acquiring impeccable language, in-depth knowledge in many fields, as well as perfect ease, is quite another matter. In this regard, it is a commonplace, both in the scholarly literature and in fiction, to emphasise that upstarts will inevitably be betrayed by their insufficient mastery in

108 

Embodied Signs

some domains. This may lead to major blunders, but also to excessive vigilance and a tendency towards ‘hyper-correction’, resulting in a certain lack of naturalness, which only an early socialisation could have inculcated.2 Here, obviously, we are in a logic less of having than of being, the question arising from a comparative perspective of what prevails between the material and the non-material (without neglecting possible evolutions). The eminently more subtle character of incorporated signs, combined with the fact that they seem to proceed from the individual and not from accessories, may raise it to the rank of the decisive criterion, in the sense of what Bourdieu understands by ‘la distinction’. Let us not be ethnocentric, however. Indeed, we should not forget that in many settings, social actors will be primarily assessed by their purchasing power, whereas other elements are not necessarily deemed important. Thus, if in some elitist circles good manners, refined appearance and witty exchanges prove to be crucial, the economic world (inevitably more open and aiming at achieving results) may be inclined to set aside any such requirements. It is not uncommon to meet rather unsophisticated businessmen who are well-versed in abrupt power relations with fellows of all kinds, while their wives, used to exclusive gathering between ‘polished ladies’, emphasise very different qualities for communicating their social value. To speak of interiorised signs evidently refers to their source, in no way to the fact that they could not be displayed. They are constantly available assets, admittedly often used in moderation, but ready to be fully activated if need be. This may consist of being a brilliant conversationalist, exhibiting one’s perfect knowledge of etiquette, supreme self-control, and so forth. Depending on the cultural context, to show exceptional virtuosity will sometimes be appreciated and other times rebuffed (when talks lapse into pedantry, for instance). In the past, it was notably expected of an upper-class girl that she know how to dance properly, play the piano and draw. If she happened to be asked to demonstrate her skills in one of these areas, it would have been most unfortunate to reveal significant deficiencies. However, she was merely supposed to appear as a competent dilettante. It was one thing to sing a song for the pleasure of the audience. It was another to seek performance as if the exercise were an end in itself

  Embodied Signs 

109

(such as for professionals earning their living this way). Quite often, in order to be truly distinctive, the substantiation of one’s abilities implies some detachment. Before moving on to specific themes, I thought it appropriate to open this second part with a chapter on the feeling of self-assurance that can frequently be witnessed among members of the elite, as well as a kind of good cheer, announcing a confident approach to life. It will be followed by developments on the concern for physical appearance, of the body perceived as worthy of specific care and attention. Then I will deal with the question of distinguished manners (not without ambiguity when it comes to asserting social status). Finally, I will of course devote some pages to the key role of linguistic markers and intellectual skills, but from my usual relativist viewpoint.

Notes 1. In his writings on the leisure class, Veblen points out that leisure is in no way synonymous with sloth, but refers to time consuming occupations (such as grooming, the learning of foreign languages, certain sports activities, the study of music, etc.). 2. Yet, it is not unheard-of to take intensive ‘finishing school’ courses, as some Chinese parvenus tend to do, being fearful of losing face in international contexts.

7 Self-Confidence and Assertiveness

Anyone used to watching prominent social actors inevitably notes how easily many of them seem to perform. Common signs of stress (from anxious eyes to trembling fingers to staggering voice) are quite often noticeably absent. Whether this gives the impression of a superior control of emotions, or of an unfailing confidence, it confers an undeniable sense of distinction. Some ancient authors did not hesitate to provide interpretations in terms of ‘grace’. Of course, one must not stick to this kind of verdict and the goal of this chapter will be to bring to light, as much as possible, the processes involved. A few pages will also be devoted to the telling issue of self-­ imposed elitist constraints and the benefits of submitting to them without any apparent effort.

Background Regarding the ease frequently observed at the top of the social pyramid, the standard explanation is that, for those who come from privileged backgrounds, have never lacked anything and are used to asserting themselves, to being listened to and obeyed, a relaxed attitude becomes second © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 J.-P. Daloz, Expressions of High Status, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3_7

111

112 

J.-P. Daloz

nature. In the writings of many commentators, one finds rather similar views on the influence of past experiences. Conversely, the people who constantly receive orders, who are perpetually snapped at, or live in very precarious conditions, are hardly able to display such confidence.1 It is somewhat appropriate to refer here to ethological elements. I have in mind the tranquil lack of concern of the dominant great apes but also those animals endlessly parading around, exposing themselves, ever ready to face all challenges. Radiating confidence can be based on the aptitude to react quickly and dazzlingly, as well as on the ability to remain calm in all circumstances (whereas a disproportionate response might be perceived as a lack of self-assurance). When it comes to humans, however, such facts need to be qualified by cultural considerations. I will have the opportunity to discuss these issues more at length when I deal with body postures in Chap. 16. There are number of expressions that reflect the possible value of restraint: e.g. self-control, self-possession, self-discipline, self-mastery. Or, invoking temperature, self-government is conveyed by the following idioms: to be cold-blooded, to keep cool, to keep a cool head, as opposed to being hot-headed or to boil with anger. One might be tempted to reduce this type of attitude to the paradoxical precept ‘it is by dominating yourself that you dominate others’, to be tackled in Chap. 9 on distinguished manners. What matters most, though, is an ideal of personal sovereignty unlikely to be affected by external factors.2 This may result in an aloof stance tinged with pride, that is an intermediate positioning between a clear self-affirmation and any excessive familiarity with strangers or presumably socially inferior persons. Nevertheless, it should be stressed that there is nothing universal about such a marked air of detachment, liable to result in the deliberate use of euphemism and the aspiration to always appear unimpressed, even in extreme situations. Yet there are cultures and eras that praise spontaneous exchanges, sociability and the instant search for approval, despite the fact that this means running the risk of becoming intoxicated by the interest that one arouses and of giving in to the temptation of excessive theatricality.3 There is also quite a gap between, say, the desire to establish one’s superiority through claimed indifference to given timetables, all the more so by being systematically late, and the perfect control of one’s schedule (like

7  Self-Confidence and Assertiveness 

113

some managers, or these students from very demanding universities, who never seem to be overwhelmed, despite excessive workloads). Generally speaking, the credit that can be drawn from possessing such and such of the signs of distinction discussed within the present book is liable to strengthen positive self-image, thus contributing to confidence. Let me add, with regard to the thesis according to which ease is intrinsically linked to environment and experience, that, although it is not unfounded, it does little justice to the complexities of social life. There are no lack of testimonies revealing complete reversals of hierarchy affecting supposedly dominant individuals. Within schools, boys and girls from privileged groups may become targets, constantly harassed and even bullied for money by children from disadvantaged milieus. There are similar stories in the prison system or in barracks. Furthermore, it should not be ignored that most elite circles themselves prove to be extremely competitive. If there is justification for looking at fashionable soirées as moments of celebration for upper groups, one can also understand the apprehensions of the host family and consider this type of event as inducing many potential confrontations. In other words, the challenges are permanent even at the top and we must reconsider the question of self-confidence from this angle. The same goes for business. It is easy to understand the self-assurance of great landowners on their property, ensconced in their seat of power; but will it be the same in the capital city when potentially faced with multiple rivals? Besides, the appearance of a class that is rising, at its peak, or in free fall is far from being the same—unless the display of unwavering poise is precisely the ultimate card to play, as was the case for some deposed aristocrats. Such readings encourage students of elite distinction to move away from approaches in terms of deeply rooted attitudes, linked to social positions understood as absolutely crucial (as with the Bourdieusian ‘habitus’) and to move toward a more flexible framework taking different situations and possible scenarios into account. Here we are touching on major debates around the primacy of structures or that of concrete interactions. I will return to this in the introduction to Part IV of the book, devoted to direct confrontations.

114 

J.-P. Daloz

For the time being, I would like to refer to research that directly addresses the issue of self-confidence. Beyond the dialogue of the deaf between schools of thought on the subject, the interactionists who base their remarks largely on empirical observations have engaged in relevant experimentations. In particular, I have in mind a psycho-sociological survey aimed at evaluating how very bright students behave when they are faced with poor results, reported publicly, after a class exam. Are they destabilised by this one-off failure? Or do they seem to maintain their usual composure? Conversely, an attempt was made to assess the extent to which students accustomed to poor grades over-reacted to the announcement of an exceptionally high score. Do they suddenly adopt a new attitude? The consequences of such a change in situation during the interaction (involving the professor, the students concerned and their classmates) are tested here. It is admittedly much too limited an experiment to reach major conclusions, but the approach is most interesting in so far as it is open-minded.4 What sociologists defending structural perspectives particularly intend to combat are impressions of superiority which seem to emerge naturally from the members of the dominant strata. It is important for them to deconstruct such airs of supremacy by showing how they are the result of acquisitions: from the (general) one of a manifest ease, linked to the fact of enjoying an existence that is far less harsh than the subordinate social categories, to some (much more specialised) based on early learning. Keeping one’s back straight, ensuring that one always expresses oneself correctly, if this has been inculcated from a very young age and has been corroborated by the behaviour of one’s entourage, becomes a permanent disposition. Both primary socialisation (within the family) and secondary socialisation (in institutions making this training a priority) contribute to shape an extremely becoming appearance, likely to prove most useful in social relations. This kind of analysis implicitly runs counter to a whole vein of traditional writing extolling the innate excellence of the elite and praising the charm of certain individuals standing at the pinnacle of the hierarchy. Even for those of us who are not very fond of normative literature, acquaintance with classical authors holding forth on magnificence, luxury, otium, refinement or decorum is not without interest, in view of the

7  Self-Confidence and Assertiveness 

115

fact that they indirectly inform us about what has been thought and advocated at such and such a time. Indeed, around sixty authors (from antiquity to the end of the eighteenth century) are worth taking a look at in this respect. With regard to the current issue, Castiglione is definitely the one to consider. The profound ambiguity of his Book of the Courtier (which was to become the reference of many courts across Europe) is that it provides advice to communities already convinced of their own superiority. Courtesan perfection was not supposed to be learned, but to be revealed in the slightest gestures as a shared evidence of eminence. However, for the greater glory of those concerned (benefitting that of their sovereign), it was still deemed possible to provide additional guidance with a view to confer even more ‘grace’ in various fields. Castiglione’s work was therefore in no way a textbook, but aimed rather at the development of pre-­ existing faculties, leading to self-assertion according to an ideal model of ‘completeness’.5 Between such pro-aristocratic fairy tales stating an inherent differentiation denying the reality of education, and the theoretical schemes reducing the ease of the dominant to a mere ‘interiorisation of legitimate codes’, there is room for many intermediate scenarios. Thus, when one compares, for instance, the type of assurance displayed by the (boastful) high-status young people of the southern United States in the nineteenth century and those of the northern part (much more polished), very dissimilar profiles emerge—hence major contrasts when they were in close contact with each other in the top universities. The same goes with testimonies of boys and girls sent to harsh British institutions and some relating to capricious children of outrageously spoiled Californian billionaires, even if these backgrounds each contribute in their own way to shape very confident individuals.

Elitist Constraint and Ease The distinction effect resulting from a display of steadfast self-assurance is even more striking when the pre-eminent actors are ‘on display’ or face particularly challenging situations. Let us think, for example, of the

116 

J.-P. Daloz

debutante preceded by a reputation of great beauty, capturing the eyes of all participants (both male and female) when her name is announced at the entrance to the ballroom and who is not supposed to exhibit the slightest sign of stress or be arrogant. There are instances where the expected excellence of men and women at the pinnacle requires even more effort, in so far as elites sometimes do not hesitate to impose serious constraints on themselves. However, overcoming the difficulty will bring an added value to their person. This raises the important cleavage between distinction either based on ostensible comfort, or, on the contrary, on self-restricting hindrances. I must point out here that the theme of comfort has been treated in a rather questionable way in the literature. At a time when constructivist theses are gaining ever more ground, scholars are inclined to produce works on the ‘creation’, ‘invention’, ‘fabrication’, or ‘production’ of all kinds of realities, highlighting their historically-situated or even contingent character. This is the case with the advent of private comfort, widely regarded as a preoccupation dating back to the eighteenth century in Europe, at the instigation of a bourgeois class much more concerned with its own ease than with the old aristocratic priority of the dramaturgy of dignity.6 We should not forget that since antiquity, lofty figures have often been represented enjoying superior comfort. Suffice it to evoke pharaohs, pre-­ Columbian emperors and popes flanked by servants fanning them, or the famous hierarchy of seats at Versailles according to rank (chairs with and without armrests, stools), or even the privilege reserved for certain people of kneeling on a pillow when attending mass. We are indisputably dealing here with distinctions based on the display of a superior level of comfort. A particularly telling illustration is that of parasols, large umbrellas and canopies that used to be monopolised by sovereigns since Ancient Egypt and the Assyrian world. Staying in the shade while the audience does not benefit from this prerogative has long been an indication of majesty and authority. What is remarkable in the eyes of the comparativist is that they can be found on all continents: among the Mayas and Aztecs, in Morocco as in West Africa or Ethiopia, in India, Tibet, China, Japan, Southeast Asia, Oceania and Europe. Nevertheless, when one takes the trouble to

7  Self-Confidence and Assertiveness 

117

look at the symbolism involved, they can refer as much to the celestial vault, connoting stability, as to ideas of shelter or fertility.7 While canopies were sometimes transformed into mere signs (especially when remaining open at night or indoors), the fact that they were held by slaves, servants often forced to trot along in order to keep the main dignitaries protected from the sun, certainly contributed to the impression of eminence. It produced a markedly asymmetric effect whereby non-­ shared comfort meant supremacy.8 However, there were cultures that resolutely rejected any touch of cosiness as falling prey to weakening luxury. Instead, some chiefs or leaders tended to present themselves as individuals with extraordinary abilities, impervious to fatigue and fearing neither heat nor cold. The warrior aristocracy has thus often shown the greatest commitment to qualities of endurance, obviously crucial on the battlefield.9 More generally, the ability to overcome all kinds of difficulties with ease is conducive to the demonstration of a certain mastery. This brings me to the heart of my subject in this section, namely: elitist constraints. Contrary to the cliché of dominant groups systematically leading lives devoid of obstacles, it must be recognised that this is far from always the case. It is important to understand, for example, that courtiers were not only revelling in their privileged world, filled with pleasure, but that life in such a universe was full of obligations. One was forced to comply with the expectations of individuals of higher rank than oneself, to respect schedules, to attend all sorts of interminable ceremonies, and so forth. To frequent ‘polite society’ can also be perceived as quite demanding: inducing on-going efforts in matters of grooming, flawless self-control during dinners, possible participation in balls (especially for men who do not like dancing), or the obligation to reciprocate dinner invitations. To be sure, not belonging to the in-group will often be seen as a discrediting, but even for those who enjoy such activities or take them for granted, they have some cost in terms of self-investment. On the other hand, elitist environments prove particularly appropriate when it comes to highlighting one’s talents in valued fields. The more arduous the exercise and thus the greater the virtuosity demonstrated, the stronger the admiration. However, there is more than that. Castiglione underscores the notion of sprezzatura, which expresses the idea of obvious

118 

J.-P. Daloz

ease. Here, we are at the opposite of any boastfulness. On the contrary, it is the ability to accomplish feats while giving an impression of effortlessness which will have the potential to amaze others.10 Complicated performances demand a lot of concentration, even more perhaps when they are collective, like some dances requiring perfect overall coordination. Now it is fitting to carry out such and such action nonchalantly, as if it were nothing. Of course, this can only be based on the early learning referred to above, or on assiduous training. In any case, the expected image must be one of natural elegance, that of a truly embodied distinction, expressing an extreme self-confidence. Many of the facets analysed in this book could be involved. Extraordinary talent is not absolutely necessary, but a serious degree of self-discipline usually is. Regarding clothing, for example, one may refer to cumbersome dresses or very narrow skirts. Voluminous outfits were obviously most constraining both for the wearer and for those around (e.g. dance partners), presupposing suitable facilities (double-wing doors, sufficiently wide seats, etc.). They required some control, especially when going down the stairs. However, we must be careful not to make hasty comments concerning discomfort. Thus, the ancestor of the basket dress, the vertugado (farthingale) of the fifteenth century (composed of a structure in wicker hoops), was lighter than a pile of petticoats and somewhat more suited to the climate of the Iberian Peninsula where it appeared. So said in passing, the wearing of outfits (female as well as masculine) utterly inappropriate in the tropics, for purposes of distinction, is a classic illustration of elitist constraint.11 As regards restrictive garments, one has in mind the ‘hobble dresses’ of the Belle époque and the Edwardian era (following the physically demanding fashions of the crinoline and the bustle) and later the post-Second World War ‘pencil skirts’, but also kimonos. What is important to underline here, from my perspective, is that clothes that are very loose, too tight, or that remain in place only with great difficulty (such as togas), induce a form of discomfort, either by their size and weight, by the difficulties they cause when it is necessary to stoop or to step over a puddle of water, for example, or by their dreaded slippage. As a result, they are likely to hinder relaxation and ease, especially during conversations.

7  Self-Confidence and Assertiveness 

119

However, is it precisely the fact of dressing in such a way while not seeming to pay any attention to its inconvenience that will be a factor of distinction.12 Ultimately, the constraint overcome can even paradoxically inspire self-confidence for various reasons. Possibly, because it contributes to a feeling of rectification of appearance (thus wide skirts have the advantage of masking the female anatomy, potentially reducing physical flaws). Second, because some clothes literally support you. The corset (essentially interpreted by Veblen as a significant fashion accessory of ‘the leisure class’ in his time, and by feminists as an instrument of torture meant to please men) must be considered not only as liable to improve the silhouette, but also as an apparatus keeping the back straight, thus dispensing with any concern in this regard.13 This leads me to a third point which is quite simply a sense of propriety: that of suitably complying with the expected norms. Regularly wearing a kimono, or any type of restraining clothing, ends up seeming natural. Far from being considered inhibiting, it tends to become the preferred option, all the more so if it attracts admiring glances and social success.14 Even heavy ankle rings (whose weight was originally supposed to prevent flight) can still be a source of pride in sub-Saharan Africa, when they are plentiful and lavishly decorated. The same goes with very short skirts in light fabric that require extreme vigilance. Some will be quick to provide interpretations of it in terms of reification, or ‘masculine domination’, and others as a major element of ‘girl power’ (just as it was once estimated that crinolines symbolised the women’s desire to assert themselves in the salons). In any event, it is important, as usual, not to dogmatically rely on ready-made (usually normative) interpretations and to grasp instructive cultural differences, through a myriad of illustrations available. I have in mind, for example, stories of Roman legionaries who made it a point of honour to wear ornamented belts and aprons (thus adding a bit more still to the total weight of their military equipment), as well as those about the heaviness of ornate mantles, large gold chains or tiaras giving headaches. I could also mention testimonies of female inmates stubbornly demanding permission to wear a corset so as not to look sloppy; countless cases of clothing completely inappropriate to the weather (pumps in the snow, low-necked dressed in freezing castles, and so forth), with people not necessarily conscious of their unseemly choices; or those funny anecdotes

120 

J.-P. Daloz

about the incompatibility of top hats and fragile female headgear with outings in convertible automobiles, and about excessively high stilettos and swollen feet requiring injections if one intends to dance all night long! Through such illustrations we realise that the comfort/self-­constraint gap for distinctive purposes can be found over the centuries, without being reducible to a single trajectory.15 Regarding residences, in addition to the issue of imposing architecture, which could play on verticality (and doom generations of occupants to climb and descend steep stairs throughout their lives), a particularly subtle aspect relates to furnishings. The use of a whole assortment of seats which contributed to splendour, but which now appear to us to be most uncomfortable, constituted a test in court societies. They required a great deal of physical discipline (including the ability to keep one’s back straight for hours without being supported by a backrest in any way).16 Good control of vehicles notoriously difficult to drive (from ancient chariots to some sports cars of the modern era) may also be a major way to demonstrate mastery and self-assurance. In Chap. 4, I mentioned the importance that the advent of velocipedes had symbolically assumed for some social groups. The paradoxical character of this kind of machine is that stability requires one to dare to set off. This now looks like a banal experience that many children face one day or another. However, we have to imagine what it meant in the nineteenth century in terms of showing one’s determination. From the point of view of the men, the height of the first machines and the absence of brakes made the exercise a bold one. With regard to women, other pitfalls had to be overcome: for example, the need to wear weighted skirts (which further compromised one’s balance) in order to prevent them from rising and even to mask pedalling, perceived as inelegant. The culinary field also has its constraints of formality allowing one to display social status. Without going back to the arsenal of specialised utensils liable to cause torment to the guests insufficiently familiar with their use (cf. Chap. 5), I could evoke the tazza, a virtually flat cup supposed to accommodate wine and which requires a high level of dexterity. We are almost dealing with ‘pure signs’ of distinction, reminiscent of those objects either much too big or too small to be usable which delighted lords of the Italian Renaissance (e.g. tiny chairs, huge jars). In this case,

7  Self-Confidence and Assertiveness 

121

from the cup to the lips the path is fraught with perils, all the more so when we know that one opted for such glasses as part of table rituals. Even if contemporary oenologists tend to believe that these containers are quite suitable for the bouquet of certain wines, what seems remarkable to me is the link between their manifestly dysfunctional nature and their elitist character.17 The theme of physical appearance, which will be developed in the next chapter, may also invite similar reflections. It is not just that you have to suffer to be beautiful, as with those individuals who regularly endured the heat of the erstwhile curling irons for instance, but that extravagant getups cause stresses and strains. I will limit myself to the example of the poufs at the time of Marie-Antoinette. This famous hairstyle mounted on metal frames of an incredible height represented all sorts of figures and scenes (including boats, windmills, etc.) or displayed various expensive accessories. Commentators have legitimately laid emphasis on their impractical volume (especially when ladies had to get into a carriage) and on their annoying character for the entourage (notably at the theatre), providing ample fodder for cartoonists. It should be realised that these impressive constructions not only took a considerable time to build, but that they could not be washed and attracted vermin. At best, scrapers were used (of course in ivory, gold, or diamonds for the sovereign). Moreover, it proved difficult to lie down. Women were forced to sleep in a sitting position with lots of pillows behind their backs.18 This is a superb illustration indeed of elitist constraint, especially as competition within the court and beyond pushed the ladies to try and outdo each other. I could just as well have alluded to the feminine hairstyles under the Ming dynasty or to certain cosmetics involving constant vigilance. Self-discipline, therefore, serves the quest for superiority. Nevertheless, it is important to understand that these constraints are sometimes liable to be offset. In this type of configuration, the prominent social actors display elements that suggest a difficulty, but this indirectly refers to the fact that they have the means to be assisted. Thus, a dress train can be very cumbersome, heavy and dirty, unless it is held by subordinates. Back-­ lacing clothing was evidence of the availability of a maid’s services.19 In the same vein, knowing that many fancy dresses of the past were fitted with a whole set of pins requiring tedious set-up sessions, they

122 

J.-P. Daloz

represented a noticeable signal of status. Putting on the famous Venetian ‘chopines’ I mentioned earlier also required the help of housemaids, acting as crutches. Even the buttoning of long opera gloves called for outside assistance, especially since they were often deliberately chosen one size too small, in order to confer a supposedly graceful curve effect. Most of the time, admittedly, the servants’ interventions had to do with finishing touches, including for the men (a page, a valet ensuring an absolutely impeccable attire). However, in the Middle Ages, putting on some garments such as narrow ‘surcoats’ required one to be assisted. As for physical appearance, sophisticated hairstyles have long implied that one had the necessary staff at one’s disposal. In addition, it is worth mentioning the tradition of dignitaries having awkward objects carried for them: either because they are considered unclean (as with shoes in ancient Egypt or in Japan, where it was required to remove them indoors), very heavy (masses wielded by a bailiff, Polynesian clubs, and so forth), or more impressive when raised (think of the crown held by a slave above the head of the triumphant general in Rome). With each of these cases, we enter into the realm of vicarious display (to be treated in the third part of the book), whereby the expression of distinction is amply delegated to intermediaries. Here, the dominant figure plays on the double image of considerable constraint and its release. This list could easily be extended in connection with forthcoming chapters dealing with other facets. I must, however, mention one final point. Occasionally, ostensible self-assurance is staged with a view to emphasise extreme self-control. One of the most beautiful examples I know of is the following. When George Villiers, the favourite of James I of England, came to Paris to arrange the marriage between the future Charles I and Henrietta-Maria of France (Henri IV’s daughter), he was standing before Marie de Medici when many of the diamonds that adorned his doublet came off and fell down. He did not seem at all alarmed and remained impassive. The stones were later returned to him, but of course the story soon spread. It appears that all this was premeditated by the lord in question with the aim of striking the minds of his hosts.20 Court life was full of episodes of this sort.

7  Self-Confidence and Assertiveness 

123

Notes 1. Veblen spoke of ‘distance from necessity’, a formula that Bourdieu would later made his own. 2. This may explain the importance attached to sport (or its antecedents) in the education of some elites. The main point is to demonstrate that you remain clear-headed even in a very difficult position. 3. Cf. A. Wierzbicka, Emotions across Languages and Cultures: Diversity and Universals, Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1999. With regard to imperturbability in the face of danger as in front of the most admirable spectacles, one thinks of the famous British composure that so fascinated impulsive continentals. 4. G.E. Weisfeld and J.M. Beresford, ‘Erectness of Posture as an Indicator of Dominance or Success in Humans’, Motivation and Emotion, vol. 6/2, 1982, pp. 113–131. 5. Castiglione (Baldassare), The Book of the Courtier, London: J.M Dent & Sons, 1974 [1528]. 6. In this regard, cf. J. Crowley, The Invention of Comfort: Sensibilities and Design in Early Modern Britain and Early America, Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 2001; J. DeJean, The Age of Comfort: When Paris Discovered Casual—and the Modern Home Began, New  York: Bloomsbury, 2009. Perhaps is it a question of nominalism, knowing that English ‘comfort’ (derived from the French conforter) emerged quite late. 7. Good descriptive chapters can be found in T.S. Crawford, A History of the Umbrella, Newton Abbot: David & Charles, 1970. 8. On a very different note, we have testimonies from the medieval times according to which only the lord of the premises had the prerogative of relieving himself in the grand hall, while the rest of the guests had to leave the room. 9. On the other hand, in Chinese civilisation, for example, the pursuit of well-being has never really been a problem, at least for the literati. 10. In this respect, the sprezzatura retains a line of continuity from the Roman facilitas advocated by Quintilian, especially when it comes to rhetoric and the presentation of self. 11. During my travels, I realised that in some cases (in the large white houses of the Mississippi plantations, among others) women preferred to have the ventilation system adjusted rather than to alter their frocks from Paris. While in Puerto Rico, Cuba or the Philippines, ladies of the same

124 

J.-P. Daloz

milieu resorted to tricks to loosen their blouses, so as to let a little air in. This was perfectly acceptable, as evidenced by many portraits. 12. Especially when one is invited to climb a hill, to go boating or cycling, like those young westernised Chinese women of the 1920s who kept very unsuitable outfits and high heels for such exercises (cf. V. Steele & J.S. Major, China Chic: East Meets West, New Haven: Yale UP, 1999). 13. Cf. G. Vigarello, Le corps redressé, Paris: Armand Colin, 2nd edn, 2011. The same goes for ruffs, rigid collars or ceremonial armour, which all contributed to an impeccable bearing. 14. L.C. Dalby, Kimono: Fashioning Culture, New Haven: Yale UP 1993. On the other hand, clothing that is very rarely donned will often feel quite uncomfortable. 15. Cf., among others, S. Hoss, ‘The Roman Military Belt: A Status Symbol and Object of fashion’, in T.F.  Martin & R.  Weetch (eds), Dress and Society, op. cit.; V. Steele, The Corset: A Cultural History, New Haven: Yale UP, 2001; W. Martin, Primates of Park Avenue: A Memoir, New York: Simon & Schuster, 2015, p. 145. 16. At Versailles, some gaming tables were placed directly on the knees of the players. The latter had to take care not to make any sudden moves at all. Cf. A. Lilti, Le monde des salons. Sociabilité et mondanité à Paris au XVIIIe siècle, Paris: Fayard, 2005, p. 98. 17. Cf., C. Rubini, Domestic and Ceremonial Glassware from the Renaissance to the 19th Century: The du Mesnil Collection, Paris: Norma, 2013. 18. See C.  Weber, Queen of Fashion: What Marie-Antoinette Wore to the Revolution, New York: Henry Holt and Company, 2006. Even if the cultural context is completely different the headrests (slightly curved pieces of wood), which are classified among the prestige goods in Tonga and other Polynesian islands, were also meant to preserve the hair (because the skull, a part of the body supposed to be loaded with mana, is never to touch the ground). 19. Conversely, the latter, and ordinary women in general (peasants and so forth) tended to wear clothes that closed in the front. 20. C. Hille, Visions of the Courtly Body: The Patronage of George Villiers, First Duke of Buckingham and the Triumph of Painting at the Stuart Court, Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 2012, pp. 99–100.

8 Physical Appearance

At first glance, bodily beauty is not directly related to social position, but would rather depend on the freshness of youth or the vagaries of fate, as expressed in the phrase ‘being blessed by nature’. Nevertheless, sociologists are justified in pointing out that decisive factors (such as the harshness or relative mildness of living conditions and the access to regular care cosmetics) can influence physical appearance. There are a number of cultural representations of excellence in this domain. Since Herodotus, many sovereigns have been portrayed as endowed with extraordinary beauty, and we know that fairy tales are full of charming princes or princesses whose beauty is unrivalled. Conversely, terms like ‘villain’ or ‘slattern’ are symptomatic of a devaluation of commoners associated with repulsive ugliness or dirt.1 This being said, a comparative approach leads to a recognition of undeniable divergences when it comes to criteria of distinction, as well as of some significant evolutions. Preliminary considerations on this will be given before tackling the topics of cleanliness and hygiene, primping and possibly surgical rectifications.

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 J.-P. Daloz, Expressions of High Status, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3_8

125

126 

J.-P. Daloz

On Beauty and Social Status In numerous contexts, remarkable features are interpreted as a reflection of intrinsic qualities. In any case, the fineness of facial features, as well as a particularly harmonious body, are liable to reinforce an inner dignity cultivated since childhood. Along with intellectual brilliance or elegant manners, they are likely to contribute to self-confidence. Something biological can well be at play here, which is reminiscent of Darwinian sexual selection and the link between physical attractiveness and supremacy. Yet this immediately points to the question of local human repertoires imbued with their respective ideals. Suffice it to think of the ideology of ‘superior blood’ and of the aristocratic conviction that unions between highborn individuals cannot fail to produce exceptional beings over the generations. Of course, dominant actors have no monopoly on beauty. As a matter of fact, this is a rather recurring theme, from mythology describing phenomena of ravishing and rapture (Jupiter, fascinated, seizing Ganymede) to the inexhaustible leitmotif in fiction showing how irresistible passions for young people from inferior backgrounds end up thwarting family ambitions. Besides, it goes without saying that elites may indeed have physical defects. It remains to be seen, however, whether these were present at birth or prove to be marks linked to life’s mishaps. The gaze cast on the lame, the hunchback or the one-eyed has long been very disparaging when it was set in the poverty-stricken context of the lowest depths of society, but this was not necessarily the case with people of high rank. I have in mind here, in particular, the ‘glorious scars’ that some (e.g. Henri ‘Scarface’, the French Duke of Guise, for example, or, the Earl of Arlington in England) proudly bore as a lasting sign of their bravery, notwithstanding the ugliness of the gash or of the bandage that covered it. From another point of view, it must be recognised that lives exempted from any manual labour whatsoever are most likely to preserve bodies. To express this, it is striking to note that several of the founding fathers of sociology have recurred to the very same illustration: that of the smooth hands of the members of the high-status groups, as opposed to the callous ones of maidservants and peasants.2 One also usually comes across the

8  Physical Appearance 

127

image of the Mandarin with his lengthy nails testifying to his position, and possibly with protections elongating them even further. In Chap. 2, I mentioned Elizabeth I’s two thousand pairs of gloves and the dialectics of the hidden and the shown. In terms of distinction, gloves are a rather complex theme. It seems that there have been times when they were rejected by members of the ‘leisure class’ precisely because their hands had no need to be protected (this was after all an accessory for the gardener or the handyman). A very subtle code indeed! Still, in many contexts, gloves were fashionable or required.3 This leads us back to the relationship between the body and clothing, whether accoutrements are used to mask certain physical imperfections (a high collar or large glasses possibly concealing wrinkles, for example) or to draw attention to some ‘strong suit’. I will not return here to the theory of the ‘shifting of erogenous zones’, except to point out that the emphasis on this or that body part could consist not only in revealing it more or less, but also in providing it with assiduous care. Thus, the obsession with the female breast at the time of Charles II, in England, prompted courtesans not only to opt for very low necklines but also to paint their nipples. It should be added that if attire is likely to enhance the body, the opposite is equally possible. As far back as Augustus, the ceremonial breast-plate looked more striking when it was flanked by muscular arms. However, a logic of improvement could prevail. The armour corrected the frail build of Emperor Charles V, for instance, or straightened the hunched silhouette of many an aged king. The above is obviously dependent on representations that are in no way universal. I have insisted on the fact that social eminence can be based not so much on apparel as on bodily signs: hairstyles, tattoos, various inlays, gold-capped incisors and all kinds of mutilations, scarification and deformations studied by anthropologists and archaeologists.4 This introduces a major cleavage between cultures that value the ‘embellishment’ of the body and those which see it as an almost sacred vessel that should not be altered. In this respect, there is a quite a gap between the medieval Christian view of the human being as an emanation of the divine (thus looking at the slightest artifice with strong suspicion) and, say, the ancestral Japanese approach and its deep unease when confronted with raw nature. According to the first conception, any modification will

128 

J.-P. Daloz

be deemed deceptive, even sacrilegious, each person having to accept the physique he or she has been given. According to the second, it is almost a prerequisite, all the more so where geishas are concerned. There are societies that tend to exalt ‘pure’ beauty (this was, for instance, the case of Nazi Germany, which discouraged ‘Aryan’ women from wearing makeup) and others that, on the contrary, require transformations for reasons having to do with both identity and aesthetics. An important aspect relates to the dimensions of the body and the possible search for ideal proportions (so highly admired in Greek antiquity). This could lead the nurses in charge of swaddling to intervene in the development of the anatomy of the little ones with a view to mould it accordingly. However, as from the Romantic era on, corporeal distinction was to be less a matter of classical canons than of singularity, quite often. It even became conceivable to purposely accentuate some odd features in order to be noticed. Without having to refer to spectacular exotic cases, the simple observation of the evolution of the female nude in Western painting (the lavish flesh in the paintings of Rubens, and so forth) shows considerable metamorphoses. In the long run, complete reversals can be detected. The issue of thinness as opposed to corpulence is a very good example of this. For centuries, in many societies, being overweight (something rather exceptional) was indeed one of the major signs of success. Men could take pride in their own plumpness but also in that of their wives, children or mistresses, in sharp contrast with the hordes of starving creatures surrounding them. In Africa (among the Ibibio notoriously) as well as in Polynesia (in Tahiti or the Marquesas islands, among others), the eldest boys and some young girls were fattened in order to make them look more attractive. This was a practice that only wealthy families could afford. We have vivid ethnological descriptions of individuals emerging from the house where they had been force-fed and having to be assisted in order to walk, under a shower of praise and applause from the community.5 When one speaks of ‘Big Men’ in Nigeria, the term refers to an outstanding calibre in many respects, including physical appearance, stoutness somewhat confirming success and status. Today, however, at least in developed countries, obesity has become a sign of neglect, the mark of those members of the lower classes who consume fatty foods, excessively sugary

8  Physical Appearance 

129

drinks, and whom one imagines slouching all day long in front of a screen. Distinction is now more than ever synonymous with slenderness, regular jogging and fitness.6 Already at the end of the eighteenth century, Marie-Antoinette used to watch her figure, enjoying desserts but wary of meat, unlike the king… Another, most significant illustration concerns the colour of the skin. In Europe as in the Far East, a pale complexion has long been the rule for women from privileged groups, implying that they were not forced to engage in any laborious outdoor activity. If they happened to go outside, they took care to preserve their wan colouring with a hat, a veil, a parasol, or even a mask, not to mention an abundant use of creams. In many portraits from various periods, perceptive viewers will notice black silk cords around the neck or worn as bracelets, which were supposed to highlight the pallor of the skin. Indeed, the latter had been celebrated since antiquity, Roman poets seeking the perfect metaphors to express whiteness (lily-like, snow-like, swan-like) in that regard. Besides, let us not forget that the word ‘fair’ may mean both ‘beautiful’ and ‘light’, In the context of colonisation, a racial connotation could expectedly prove important. For instance, in the West Indies, planters’ wives were happy to be depicted not only in extremely white dresses and wigs, but also with an alabaster face.7 Tellingly, well-to-do British women, when they went to join their husbands in India, took care to reserve a much more expensive cabin on the north side of the ship in order to shelter themselves as much as possible from the sun.8 Since the 1920s, there has been a total conversion: a tanned skin suggesting that one has the means to go on holiday to pleasant seaside resorts or to enjoy winter sports.9 This is based on a radical change in female attitudes towards outdoor activities, linked to the development of new representations and practices.10 Analytically, however, one should point out that social distinction remains related to leisure: either hinting, traditionally, that the ladies of high society are exempt from the slightest outdoor task, or that they have the time to lounge on beaches. Secondly, it should be emphasised that the search for a lighter epidermis remains quite essential for many women in the Global South (particularly those from sub-Saharan Africa or the mestizo lands of Latin America) who tend to resort to dangerous products as European women used to. In Mexico,

130 

J.-P. Daloz

marrying someone whose skin is less swarthy than one’s own often has the objective, apparently, of producing a whiter offspring (which is far from being unimportant locally in terms of status and prestige). Finally, it should be noted that the parasol has not become an outdated accessory everywhere. Suffice it to think of the Japanese case. Incidentally, this type of theme shows that while interpretations in terms of dominant codes may prove appropriate, taking into account persistent cultural logics as well as fundamental reversals may also matter.

Cleanliness, Grooming and Plastic Surgery When one considers operations aiming at giving a neat appearance to the body or at beautifying it, it is appropriate to establish a gradation ranging from cleanliness, then aesthetic improvement (involving make-up, perfume, hairdressing, etc.) and possible corrections of imperfections. In England, from the Pre-Victorian period onwards, the ‘great unwashed’ was an expression used to evoke lower social groups with questionable hygiene11 (as opposed to the ‘clean upper classes’). The urban poor were not only regarded as irremediably fetid, like the neighbourhoods in which they were rotting, but as putting up with the stench, just as stable boys end up paying no attention to the smell of dung. What seems to be implicated in this type of cliché is a supposed lack of concern for appearances amongst the lower classes who would also be characterised by the tendency to be satisfied with stained clothing. It goes without saying, however, that the possibility of washing oneself properly depends on access to clean water, a prerogative which is still far from universal today. It is well known that even on the European continent the widespread presence of bathtubs or showers dates back only a few decades. In Rome, members of the elite who were able to afford private baths had to seek permission from the emperor to be connected to an aqueduct. In addition to the amenity of marble basins and mosaic decorations, the purity of the water was a noticeable signal of status. It referred to visions of clear springs under the protection of nymphs.12 If hygiene is likely to constitute a means of expressing social superiority as such, many elements related to washing (from specialised rooms to all kinds of refined

8  Physical Appearance 

131

accessories) are thus liable to appear as key markers. In some contexts, it was less a matter of cleaning oneself than of indulging in a relaxing immersion, as in the ‘bathing quarters’ of Renaissance palaces and town houses.13 Cultural historians remind us how the perception of water has considerably varied from one era to the next. It is an acknowledged fact that the infatuation with bathing, identifiable in several ancient civilisations, gave way to a relative distrust in the Middle Ages. It was long feared that the opening of the pores of the skin would promote the transmission of disease, including plague. Besides, the nefarious reputation of the steam rooms had to do with the practice of prostitution prevalent there. Then comes to mind, at a later stage, the image of the male or female courtier, indulging at best in a ‘toilette sèche’, i.e. being rubbed down with perfumes and limiting hygiene to a regular change of shirt. Eventually, ablutions would return, within the framework of the development of the bathroom and an unprecedented desire to preserve one’s privacy, going so far as to decline the assistance of servants.14 I could also evoke the contrast between the filth of the conquerors of the ‘wild West’ and the extreme demands of cleanliness within certain Amerindian tribes, and more generally the complexities of the symbolic interplay between purity and impurity well documented in the anthropological literature. The term ‘make-up’ aptly expresses what is at stake at the next level, with its denotation of fashioning a superior appearance. This is a significant area for social distinction, inciting one to consider several aspects. First of all, the use of beauty treatments is likely to establish a gap between bodies that are primped and those that are not. However, an overdone make-up look is frequently seen as vulgar (referring to the woman of ill-­ repute or to the artificial image of actors). On the other hand, one should not forget that for many traditional communities, a painted face and even painted body parts are a must, indicating belonging to one group as well as various types of status. Culturally speaking, the question arises as to whether we are dealing with an intensification of natural colours (redder lips and cheeks, lighter complexion), as has often been the case in the West (with the possible exception of eye shadow), or with utter alteration. It is also interesting to study to what extent fashion phenomena prevail and a concern for individualisation is detectable, in relation to

132 

J.-P. Daloz

hair, clothes, or even the structure of facial features. Here, one is inclined to test the hypothesis according to which the required wearing of simpler clothes at certain periods might have led elites to attach more importance to make-up, as a kind of compensation (interestingly enough, another meaning of the term). Nevertheless, for the sake of symbolic consistency, it has sometimes been expected, on the contrary, not to do anything of the sort. Thus during the neoclassical period, thin muslin dresses were necessarily supplemented by short hair in the antique style and a face with subdued colours. Moreover, as in painting, the use of very costly pigments (blue and gold in particular) was to play a key role in strategies of distinction. Grooming must be understood in connection with all kinds of prestigious products of mineral, animal or vegetable origin, intended for make­up and skin care (from colours enabling a diversified palette to unguents requiring long preparations), but also multiple accessories. It is most revealing that archaeologists have been discovering so many utensils dedicated to beautification in elite tombs. Not only do they often come across powders concocted from noble ingredients (pearls, for example) as well as instruments that were exclusively used at the top of society, as far as we know, but they are surrounded, or are in themselves characterised, by remarkable luxury. What I have in mind, on the one hand, are all sorts of pretty containers (compartmentalised boxes, amphorisks for perfume, moulded glass vials); and on the other hand combs, scissors, tweezers, scrapers, ear picks or spatulas made in the most valuable substances (gold, ivory, enamelled metal) at times nicely set with precious stones. Let us not forget mirrors. Once made of polished metal, then small plate glass and finally produced in full-length varieties, they used to be status symbols. Apart from their possible elegance, what was at stake was no less than the privilege of looking at oneself. The often-lavish character of the objects dedicated to grooming raises the question of their visibility. It should be noted that in some contexts this activity was taking place in the presence of close friends. If Ovid discouraged beautiful Roman women from showing themselves before being fully adorned, mentalities concerning this were to evolve. Knowing that such a mandatory exercise could take hours, it eventually appeared legitimate in some aristocratic circles not to waste precious time and to

8  Physical Appearance 

133

devote it equally to sociability and conversation. In this situation, one readily understands that the display of accessories and bottles on the dressing table (quite often a refined piece of furniture) made perfect sense. In the twentieth century, it even became common for women to powder their nose in public (at restaurants, for example). Marketing specialists concluded that if female customers were not necessarily willing to invest a lot in products used at home (such as make-up cleansers), they could deem it important to do so for brushes or lipstick liable to be seen by others and to contribute to a distinguished image. We are undeniably faced here with what is frequently labelled the ‘democratisation of consumption’. By contrast, we only need remember that, according to chroniclers of the time, the morning ritual of Poppaea Sabina, Nero’s second wife, used to mobilise nearly a hundred slaves, or that George Brummell called on three hairdressers simultaneously (each having his specialty). Home beauty treatments were long entrusted to some of the elite’s own servants or to artisans who were summoned daily. Later on was to come the era of the beauty salon, only accessible to members of the well-to-do categories at first. However, since at least the 1980s in North America as well as in Europe or the Far East, the beautician, the pedicurist, and the manicurist are now within many people’s financial reach, as shops flourish on every street corner of cities. It is sometimes considered that Hollywood movies (with their close-up shots of perfectly made-up stars) played a major role in the spread of interest in cosmetics. One should mention here the much-sought-after Max Factor, inventor of foundation. Famous rival companies would accompany this boom with a great deal of advertising. Helena Rubinstein put different creams on the market according to the type of skin, taking advantage of scientific breakthroughs. She created water-resistant mascara and opened beauty salons in the United States, Paris, and London. For her part, Elizabeth Arden was to offer, among other things, a whole range of massage products and introduce the concept of the beauty centre within resorts, while the French group L’Oréal recruited many researchers and developed renowned makeup lines for the use of professionals as well as the wider public. Notwithstanding this indisputable spread, we are dealing with a sector that remains highly hierarchical, often deliberately targeting an affluent

134 

J.-P. Daloz

clientele, including men (cf. Estée Lauder). The fact remains that the expression of social superiority through such means is less obvious than in the past. One comes across theses on postmodern evolutions. For example, according to one analyst, the ladies of the rich neighbourhoods in the United States, who cannot have unkempt nails, tend to stick to the best brands and ‘conventional’ colours, whereas the bulk of the population opts for fanciful hues (from cheaper suppliers) and constantly change them.15 Originally, nail polish was considered rather bad taste. It was to make its mark mainly as a result of Revlon’s efforts, which effectively promoted the image of the seductress. Perfume has also been affected by major changes and one might refer here to what Alain Corbin calls ‘social scents’.16 To the best of my knowledge, the most spectacular case of differentiation is that of the Aztecs, whose elites had monopolised olfactory flowers, cultivated in their beautiful gardens, where they apparently spent hours holding forth about the fragrances of highly prized species. This was part of a whole esoteric system of thought that considered aromas in accord with certain spiritual forces. Bouquets were key ingredients of status affirmation, and large meals were unconceivable without floral displays.17 In many civilisations, perfume played a significant role in the distinction of higher categories. We know how important it was in ancient Egypt, for instance. We are not really dealing with a universal phenomenon though. The Greeks, as well as famous Roman warriors of the republican era, rejected the very idea of a perfumed body, because of its barbaric and decadent connotations. Historically, in antiquity or during the French Revolution, notably, a counter-distinction of sort was to develop, condemning any artificiality and rather glorifying sweat, as a symbol of the citizen soldier or of the working people. If scents could serve to improve one’s physical aura or to mask unpleasant odours, they were not only used to anoint the skin, hair and clothing with delicate fragrances. Indeed, many nobles did not hesitate to ingest liquids or consume flavoured pills. One might also mention perfume burners, the emission of aromas through the ceiling (as in Nero’s palace), the luxury consisting in spraying the walls of a new house with rose water (an Ottoman practice), the custom of perfuming the bed where you are going to welcome your mistress (à la Edward VII) or of putting sachets of

8  Physical Appearance 

135

fragrant flowers in all one’s linen closets. In other words, it is often appropriate to approach this olfactory universe as a whole, involving the dissemination of a pleasant and refined atmosphere around high-status individuals. The extraction of precious ingredients like musk, ambergris, agarwood or sandalwood, as well as the difficulty of preserving their essences, have long made the most famous fragrances extremely rare products. They required one to make considerable expenditure and to resort to skilled craftsmen. It should be recalled here that some sovereigns had their own perfumer. Cheaper substitutes based on citrus fruits, such as cologne, or perfumed soaps, were to contribute to the social diffusion of the fragrant aura. Later, advances in chemistry, including the advent of synthetic molecules, made it possible to produce quality fragrances at a lower cost. The distinction was then to lay in sticking to ‘real’ perfume, with one drop behind the ears or under each wrist (which was important for hand kissing) being enough given its degree of concentration, as opposed to mere eau de toilette. The quest for a relative originality likely to be noticed, could be pursued, even hoping that one’s ‘signature scent’ would be mentioned in the high society gazettes. It is essential that the perfume remain discreet, accessible only to the person who wears it and to those allowed to approach her. On the other hand, leaving a noticeable olfactory trail would frequently be considered vulgar and most characteristic of the upstart. This raises the question of both the individual and collective dimensions of smells, for instance in balls or theatres. Much like wine, perfumes prove difficult to describe, except if one uses an allusive or very abstruse vocabulary (not without obvious distinctive virtues). One might speak of ‘bouquet’ or ‘notes’ to try and discern delicate nuances. An essential phenomenon has been their rise within the framework of high-fashion houses (following the pioneering efforts of Coco Chanel) which became able to compete with well-established perfumers such as Guerlain. Both recognised the importance of refined bottles (one especially thinks of Lalique’s famous creations) as well as the adoption of elitist designations like ‘Shalimar’, in reference to the Mughal gardens of Srinagar, or ‘Trésor’ (Lancôme), ‘One Million’ (Paco Rabanne), ‘Diamonds’ (Emporio Armani)… If it is certainly possible to identify fashions in the world of scents (e.g. the sudden consecration of

136 

J.-P. Daloz

ylang-ylang, vetiver or bergamot orange, while some ingredients ended up being considered very outdated), the longevity of the classics can only strike the observer, knowing that the famous Chanel ‘N°5’ or the aforementioned ‘Shalimar’, were created almost a century ago! Not unlike the world of handbags, we are nevertheless witnessing a clear extension of the ranges proposed, with the advent of cheaper items (using hybrid names like eau de parfum) which benefit from the aura of prestigious labels.18 Another important topic when it comes to grooming is hairstyle. This is a splendid one for proponents of cultural relativism in so far as it resists all attempts at generalisation. Some authors did try to suggest regularities: e.g. long hair would be a mark of distinction, holiness or marginality, while short hair would reflect social control, as with soldiers, prisoners or monks. However, this kind of argument does not stand up to comparative examination and it is quite easy to offer counter-examples.19 Since ancient times there have been divergent manifestations of distinction. Thus, Mesopotamian elites allowed their hair to grow out and be curled, while Egyptian ones opted for a shaved head and wig. There were cultures where hair was absolutely essential to portray eminent status. Here I have once again in mind the case of the Aztecs, who considered it capable of capturing the energy transmitted by the Sun. They attached extreme importance to capillary arrangements supposed to highlight the major social actors: from the sovereign to priests, as well as warriors who had distinguished themselves in combat.20 Hairstyle is frequently used as a key marker of identity. One thinks, among other possible illustrations, of the famous ‘Manchu queue’ (a sign of pride referring to longevity). It was imposed on the Chinese at the dawn of the Qing dynasty but they were forced to cut it at the end of that era, in 1912. When there is an intention of distinction, it is often based on a search for originality requiring the services of a specialist. In Rome, the slave in charge of doing the hair of her mistress, the ornatrix, had to be continually inventive and, judging by some busts of the imperial era, the result could be of great sophistication. Braids in sub-Saharan Africa can also prove extremely complicated. In many cases (since Isabeau of Bavaria, at least), what impresses the observer is the studied combination between the headdress and the hairstyle, the lovely hat and the subtly arranged strands (the veil representing

8  Physical Appearance 

137

a particular accessory21). However, there were contexts in which a relatively simple arrangement was preferred, requiring no assistance. Long blond braids were thus very appreciated in the Middle Ages, as buns may have been in other eras, the emphasis then largely lying on the quality of the hair itself. For centuries, it remained difficult to keep thick hair really clean (the advent of the shampoo being quite recent), which posed a problem especially when it was worn loose. In this regard, I will recall that unkempt hair has often been a sign of barbarism (in the eyes of the Chinese, for example) or of vulgarity. The woman presenting herself outside like this was readily likened to a prostitute in France. The pre-Raphaelite English painters were nevertheless to contribute to making it a fashion. In terms of distinction, the main challenge has been to have an impeccable hairstyle that lasts. One therefore understands the great interest of the wig and later of the permanent. From a masculine point of view, one should mention the possible importance of the very elaborate moustache (requiring hot ironing or the use of wax) as well as that of perfectly trimmed beards. In the West, if not elsewhere, the constant fluctuations over time (along the line of the jaw, goatees, side whiskers, hairless faces) are quite remarkable. Getting your hair done, cut or dyed has obviously become a common practice at any level of society. However, the universe in question also proves fairly hierarchical, and to claim to stand out requires one to resort to the expertise of renowned and expensive specialists. A third level of intervention on the body is aimed at correcting what is perceived as unsightly or decrepit. It is estimated that cosmetic surgery dates from antiquity (traces of it were found on the Indian subcontinent). It then focused heavily on attempts to mitigate the devastating effects of syphilis over the centuries. Nevertheless, the development of real know-­ how in this domain goes back to the aftermath of the First World War, when efforts were made to rectify the facial injuries of veterans. It seems that, around the same time, the aspiration of the film industry to generate stars without the slightest imperfection was also significant. Today, of course, operations can commonly be performed on various parts of the body: face, chest, belly, thighs, and so on, with hair graft and especially orthodontics predominating. The whiteness and impeccable symmetry of the teeth (like a pearl necklace, as it is nicely said) are now almost

138 

J.-P. Daloz

imperative for the middle and upper strata on every continent, inviting one to smile openly. Comparatively speaking, it appears that some societies (Brazilian and South Korean, in particular) attach extraordinary importance to the body image. It is quite astounding to discover that in the well-to-do families of South America, young girls are offered a firming of the breasts and of the posterior from adolescence on (in Colombia, for example, it is a highly-desired birthday gift). It would probably be an exaggeration to speak of banalisation in the same way as what was described above regarding grooming, but this kind of expensive surgery is far from being just for elites. In this respect, it is notable that the resulting successful business sector has developed in relatively poor countries (from Eastern Europe to Latin America). Still, highly reputable centres as well as individual practitioners, manage to attract the richest clientele by offering services meant to be very superior.22 While, in many ways, bodies appear more ‘liberated’ today than in the past, some aesthetic standards prove more essential than ever in the name of social distinction, or at least in that of projecting a positive image.

Notes 1. The same is true of the old leitmotif of shoemakers in Japan (an activity perceived as particularly impure) depicted with a coarse beard and thick, unsightly eyebrows. For their part, anthropological works, for example on the Dayak of Borneo, show that lower social categories are symbolically equated with whatever is perceived as hideous. 2. Spencer, Veblen, Weber, Goffman, as well as Functionalist authors. 3. I refer, here, to what was said in Chaps. 2 and 9. 4. A very interesting case is that of the Mayas whose elites had their teeth hollowed to allow for the insertion of jade, turquoise or serpentine. The affirmation of higher status was apparently linked to beliefs in the magical virtues of protective precious stones, their contribution to the purification of breath and even to the emission of elegant words! 5. Cf. I.  Goldman, on Mangareva (Ancient Polynesian Society, op.  cit., p. 498), very far from the stereotype of the vahine. For a summary, see G. Vigarello, Les métamorphoses du gras. Histoire de l’obésité, Paris: Le Seuil, 2010.

8  Physical Appearance 

139

6. The ‘gym’ has often become a place of social differentiation. The reputation and quality of the establishments, the price of subscriptions as well as individual coaching, and even the competition to secure the most prominent devices in the first row are likely to be considered, according to some accounts. 7. K.D.  Kriz, Slavery, Sugar, and the Culture of Refinement: Picturing the West Indies, 1700–1840, New Haven: Yale UP, 2008. 8. In reference to the starboard and port sides, to the outward and return sides, this is supposedly the origin of the acronym ‘posh’ (port out, starboard home) which is often used to evoke the snobbery of high-end circles. 9. P. Ory, L’invention du bronzage, Paris: Flammarion, 2018 (second edn). 10. In the case of men, whose occupations are more legitimately outward-­ looking, tanned skin has always been admissible, or even highly desirable, with rare exceptions. The Greeks mocked the very pale skin of captured Eastern dignitaries, who remained constantly dressed and scarcely came out of their palaces. 11. Its creation is attributed to E. Burke, the fierce opponent of the French Revolution, or sometimes to E. Bulwer-Lytton, the author of a classic novel on dandyism (Pelham or the Adventures of a Gentleman, 1828). 12. In many societies, public baths have also had a major importance, offering for example an assortment of temperatures and ancillary activities. It remains to be seen who had access. 13. Cf. (Collective), Le bain et le miroir. Soins du corps et cosmétiques de l’Antiquité à la Renaissance, Paris: Gallimard, 2009. 14. N.  Laneyrie-Dagen & G. Vigarello, La toilette. Naissance de l’intime, Paris: Hazan, 2015. 15. E. Currid-Halkett, The Sum of Small Things: A Theory of the Aspirational Class, Princeton: Princeton UP, 2017, pp. 46–47. I pointed out in Chap. 2, on clothing, that any comparative analysis of the relationship between social differentiation and colour inevitably leads to cultural relativism. There are, however, some sectors (such as vehicles) where the search for unusual colours may be synonymous with distinction. This case of contemporary feminine nail polish, if it is proven, seems to go in the opposite direction. 16. Le miasme et la jonquille. L’odorat et l’imaginaire social xviiie–xixe siècles, Paris: Flammarion, 2016 [1982].

140 

J.-P. Daloz

17. J.  Olko, Insignia of Rank in the Nahua World, Boulder: University of Colorado Press, 2014, pp. 140–141. 18. Not to mention resorting to major movie stars. This is an evolution that has been much criticised by some commentators. Cf. notably D. Thomas, DeLuxe: How Luxury Lost Its Lustre, London: Penguin, 2008. On the history of perfumery up to contemporary democratisation, see E. Briot, La fabrique des parfums. Naissance d’une industrie de luxe, Paris: Vendémiaire, 2015. 19. I refer to the chapter on the subject in R. Firth’s book, Symbols: Public and Private, London: George Allen & Unwin, 1973. 20. Conversely, to humiliate defeated opponents, one used to drag them by the hair. 21. In addition to the need to conceal female hair specific to certain cultures, it should be noted that the veil (as well as the cap) is likely to protect it. In a doctoral thesis on social distinction in Egypt, which I was asked to evaluate (defended in 2017 at the European University Institute in Florence), L. Mustonen shows that for women who are unable to go to the hairdresser regularly, the veil also helps to hide hair that is barely cared for. 22. Sometimes even at home, which means, for example, having a dental office installed in one’s house or business headquarters, like Roman Abramovich.

9 Distinguished Manners

Still on the subject of embodied signs, a third approach is to look at manners. It should be immediately pointed out that the term is quite ambiguous. If it usually refers to ‘correct’, expected ways of behaving in society, it may also denote a very marked self-control, bordering on affected sophistication. This is why manners are, most of the time, a question of restraint, of general concern for others, and sometimes of extreme refinement: that of the lady or gentleman perfectly mastering a certain ‘stylisation’.1 These two strands can be found in the manuals devoted to the subject, which are either guided by ethical preoccupations of decent behaviour or aim at superior elegance. Historically (as indicated by the etymology of the associated vocabulary: politeness, civility, urbanity), ‘good manners’ seem to have been related to the world of the city, as opposed to the presumably brutish universe of peasants. Urban settings entail relative anonymity and the need to deal with unknown people— which induce a degree of self-discipline. However, we equally have the adjective ‘courteous’ referring to the attitudes of the courtly elite. I will have the opportunity to return to the controversies about the social environments that have fostered the development of certain norms. The theme of distinguished manners is complex, all the more so when seen from a comparative perspective. Unfortunately, it has given rise to © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 J.-P. Daloz, Expressions of High Status, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3_9

141

142 

J.-P. Daloz

excessively reductionist lines of argument according to which everything can be boiled down to arbitrary codes (understood as vectors of exclusion), the imposition of conservative rules prompting respect for the social order, or to a general ‘process of civilisation’. To put it bluntly, this is one of those areas where the failings of deductive thinking (applying ready-made schemes to each and every context) are particularly manifest. Consequently, the main objectives of this chapter will be to give illustrations of profound ambivalence and to provide telling examples of contradictory prescriptions and proscriptions.

Ambiguities To show how unconvincing broad statements are, we can start from those studies which mention the reluctance to accept excessive self-control within ‘popular cultures’ (in contrast with upper classes seen as ‘stiff and stuffy’). Conversely, constant vigilance over oneself, reinforced by an unfailing politeness, would be one of the best ways to display social status. This may lead to the somewhat paradoxical idea put forward by Elias, Foucault or Goffman that it is by dominating yourself that you dominate others. In the related literature, this appears clearly with regard to physical demands that must be suppressed, or at least curbed in public. To be able to control oneself, unlike some others, is to confirm one’s claim to membership in ‘respectable’ society. Anticipating a theme to be dealt with later, that of bodily postures (Chap. 16), I could mention here, for example, the signs of boredom (sagging shoulders, a head that tilts and must be supported by one’s hand, the tendency to yawn, to rub one’s eyes) that certain individuals will overcome because they perceive them as offensive. However, a host of objections or questions inevitably arise. For instance, is such consideration supposed to apply under all circumstances, including vis-à-vis people who disregard these conventions? Is it not also possible to discern a scenario whereby superiority is expressed, on the contrary, through a clear lack of respect for these prescriptive ideals? Obviously enough, strict observance of propriety is likely to make sense in circles that know and cultivate these kinds of precepts. The risks of incidents are obviously lower among social actors subscribing to

9  Distinguished Manners 

143

similar codes. This is indeed why such codes have for a long time concerned the very access to others. Rituals of introduction, as well as the use of business cards and select invitations contribute to the creation of a protected environment where the polite manners of each person are presumably guaranteed.2 Sociologically, it is often considered that what would be involved is above all a kind of collective celebration among peers respectful of a certain civility. Nevertheless (as I insist in various chapters), one must not succumb to the classical prejudice of those scholars who underestimate how much elitist circles can be riven with tensions. What is more, to limit myself here to the sole issue of manners, symbolic competition may precisely consist of vying with each other in courtesy. That having been said, it is especially concerning relationship to subordinates that sophisticated approaches are needed. Do prominent social actors maintain an unfailing affability (regardless of the interlocutor) in the name of their good upbringing? Do they opt for a cautious reserve or an overbearing attitude? On this matter, there is an edifying story, replicated in several books and featuring George Washington, or sometimes another of the protagonists of the American Revolution. Wearing his gentility as a badge of honour, the representative of the white elite all of a sudden bowed deeply in front of a black woman. One of his attendants asked him about the reason for such deference. The answer was: ‘Would you have me outdone by a negro in politeness?’ One understands that the message conveyed in this case was less an evidence of attention to a person at the bottom of the social hierarchy than a desire to assert one’s predominance in terms of courtesy. The question is whether or not members of the higher social strata debase themselves by showing to allegedly inferior individuals the same civility that they are supposed to display to their peers. Interestingly, faced with somebody perceived as insolent or insufficiently reverential, the reaction may consist of an emphatic politeness, serving as a kind of warning.3 The fact remains that supreme distinction can also lie in a constant demonstration of tact. Undeniably, a cautious thoughtfulness regarding the sensibilities of others proves particularly important in bottom-­up relationships. However, minding the sensitivities of subordinates,

144 

J.-P. Daloz

a certain consideration of what they are likely to feel, may be an expression of ‘good manners’.4 This kind of attitude is frequently interpreted with scepticism by many social scientists who detect condescension therein. In the final analysis, marked politeness towards ‘ordinary people’ would be less a sign of respect towards them than a manifestation of superiority, referring to the codes prevailing within the ruling class. The Bourdieusian scheme is easily applicable here. Being systematically courteous does not alter the balance of power and would rather be a sort of ‘structural hypocrisy’, in the same way as false modesty. One can afford to be all the more gracious since one’s pre-eminence is not in question. An executive who solicits his secretary all day long as tactfully as possible is nonetheless giving her orders. However, especially when dealing with strangers, being friendly at first sight means taking a risk and lowering one’s guard. If the reply happens to be aggressive, one is immediately in a position of relative vulnerability (notwithstanding the social level of the interlocutor) and a prompt readjustment cannot be taken for granted. In such a case, it is probably appropriate to set aside interpretations excessively favouring reasoning in terms of established structures and to consider concrete interactions. Assuming that they take this into account to some extent, proponents of approaches asserting the inevitability of domination tend to argue that members of the upper classes generally have a better understanding of situations and are therefore better equipped to adapt their behaviour. But these are pure speculations, quite characteristic of deductive ready-made thinking. A good way to inject a bit of relativism in the study of distinguished manners is to evoke the configuration of people from the bottom rungs of the social ladder who nevertheless fully master the existing codes of conduct (having benefited from a socialisation to this end), in contrast with persistently rude individuals at the top. If one subscribes to a broad conception of distinction (aiming at social differentiation, regardless of the behaviour resorted to), one must recognise that symbolic superiority is in no way incompatible with the fact of taking liberties with existing prescriptions. I have in mind here the theme of aristocratic licentiousness, including for instance those women who deliberately cultivated immodesty. To take another illustration, at a time when manners were crucial, almost considered as a science, Napoleon allowed himself day

9  Distinguished Manners 

145

after day the worst boorishness. I could also refer to the image of French king Louis-Philippe as described by Alfred de Vigny: arriving late for dinner, ignoring his guests, putting his elbows on the table, absorbed in his thoughts… Of course, clearly freeing oneself from the rules is a sign of omnipotence. Such a complete reversal of the standard patterns is nonetheless worthy of attention. This leads us to a key question regarding the elite relationship with the norms prevailing in their society. Obviously, one must refer here to Norbert Elias and his famous theses in terms of the ‘civilising process’ (about the restriction of impulses, the control of the body, etc.) and the diffusion of standards of propriety. We know that his analyses have been a source of controversy involving both historians and anthropologists. Medievalists criticise him for having dated the rise of hygienic concerns and self-restraint vis-à-vis others rather late, while proscriptions regarding the body’s ‘emissions’ (burps, farts, spit, snot, urine, faeces), the requirement of washing hands, cutting one’s nails, keeping one’s teeth clean, or eliminating unwanted hair, were visible from the twelfth century onwards, in certain places.5 As for specialists of the subsequent period, they debated whether the norms in question had really emerged from the French court (a very depraved and dirty universe in many respects) and not from the Parisian salons of the rising bourgeoisie instead.6 Anybody even slightly knowledgeable about the phenomenon of nobles competing in debauchery (the infamous English ‘rakes’, for example) can only wonder if Elias did not deliberately pass over what could have called for a revision of his thesis. Let me add, as I have shown in my writings about the theorisations of social distinction, that the idea of the transformation of elitist ‘good manners’ into generalised politeness had already been advanced by Herbert Spencer years before. Anthropologists, for their part, reproach Elias for his ethnocentrism and his ignorance of non-Western cultures (unlike Weber, notably). By elevating the mores of others (at times very strange and shocking from a European point of view) to the rank of cultures, ethnologists have conferred on them a certain dignity, in opposition to an evolutionist perspective in terms of civilisation. Last but not least, even if qualifications have been suggested by Elias and his followers, one cannot but question the reversal of the trend in contemporary societies which seem to imply the relaxation of many rules of conduct.7

146 

J.-P. Daloz

Nevertheless, beyond the criticisms that can be levelled against this kind of approach regarding dating, applicability and durability, it has the merit of raising relevant interrogations concerning elites and manners, in relation to the bulk of the population. These are relevant provided one does not stick dogmatically to schemes in terms of dominant classes systematically managing to impose their arbitrary codes on societies (I of course refer to other analytical traditions here). Faced with what is frequently perceived as an inexorable ‘slackening of mores’, the act of cultivating practices now considered obsolete (such as hand-kissing) would, according to some specialists, become a mark of recognition within certain conservative groups or in diplomatic circles, for example. On the contrary, a few social scientists believe that the upper classes, witnessing the widespread proliferation of many formerly distinctive rules, would have no other option but to emancipate themselves from them while ostensibly embracing freer attitudes. As a result, the safeguarding of some traditional principles would henceforth be mainly devolved to the middle classes, especially to those fractions deeply attached to the preservation of a set of strict rules. It is undeniable that intermediate strata have often seen in the mastery of propriety a key vector of distinction, in sharp contrast with the common people perceived as irremediably vulgar. Given the fluidity of current trends, it is probably advisable to adopt approaches that are open-minded and attentive to a whole range of possible scenarios. This is most essential for the comparativist. As I have pointed out in previous analyses, it is not trivial to note that elites have sometimes attached great importance to instilling ‘good manners’ in subordinate categories. This was done on the basis of strong convictions, or having in mind the general reputation of a whole country when assessed in relation to its neighbours.8 In many environments, however, such an aspiration appeared utterly unthinkable and even undesirable. Incidentally, this leads to the realisation that dominant actors sometimes want to present themselves as the model to follow, or to maintain symbolic distance.9 With regard to the second possibility, the very idea that the lower-­ ranking populations (apart from the servants which constitute a special case) would be able to acquire a minimum of civility has, in fact, often been considered highly unlikely. There are also contexts where etiquette

9  Distinguished Manners 

147

seems to concern mainly the ritualised marks of respect towards superiors, the slightest breach of which being immediately interpreted as insolence and harshly punished. This links up with Foucaldian approaches in terms of obedience training. It used to be a commonplace reality during the colonial period when settlers were constantly seeking deference, and even submission, forbidding natives to answer back.10 Manners thus appear crucial in interactions with prominent social actors, a situation that could be found within court societies, especially towards the prince. Nevertheless, in the context of clientelist relations, for example of the feudal type, predispositions vary and contradictory attitudes may be detected. Thus, if a vassal was expected to show perfect courtesy to his overlord, he could prove extremely demanding in his fiefdom vis-à-vis his own dependants.11 Another way of tackling the subject (particularly from the nineteenth century on) is to take into consideration attitudes in shared places and possible logics of avoidance. This leads to study modes of compartmentalisation, from ‘classes’ in public transport to theatre boxes aiming at preventing any mixing. More fundamentally, what is at stake here is the problem of the relationship between social and public order. This must be understood first and foremost according to the degree of regulation and the guarantee of a certain civility in the streets, urban parks or department stores (eminently variable according to societies, eras and even neighbourhoods). This will make members of the higher categories feel relatively comfortable or, on the contrary, will prompt them to take refuge in areas that are exclusively reserved for them (such as clubs). Secondly, this issue must be considered from the perspective of (in)equality of treatment within those places and possible mechanisms of precedence (cf. Chap. 17). However, it must be recognised once again that the attitudes of high-status groups often prove quite ambivalent. They may also aim at confrontation or sometimes deliberate immersion in the underworld for voyeurism and slumming purposes, synonymous with escape from the behaviours prevailing in their own universe.

148 

J.-P. Daloz

 rescriptions and Proscriptions as Seen by P the Comparativist In addition to the ambiguities just summarised, it almost goes without saying that a cross-cultural perspective is due to bring added factors of complexity into the picture. Many of the codes involved are remarkably subtle indeed. Let me begin with a few examples which are susceptible to misinterpretation. According to Victorian etiquette, keeping one’s hat on and cane in hand for a man, one’s bonnet and shawl on for a woman during a visit was not at all discourteous. It just meant that it was a quick stop and that one did not intend to tarry. Also, if it was deemed impolite to speak too loudly at a reception, murmuring all the time was viewed as no less so, giving an unpleasant impression of secret conversation.12 At the French court during the Renaissance, in so far as even the main dignitaries had to remove their hats when they addressed the king, those who remained bareheaded paradoxically appeared to be vain (as if they were trying to suggest that the sovereign was constantly speaking to them).13 In several U.S. states, spitting in public is punishable by a fine. The same is true in Swiss cities where such an act is regarded as an incivility. However, in some cultures, it has been considered very unhealthy to retain a certain substance within yourself and, consequently, spitting is still a common practice, as in China or Sweden.14 Giving a lady the still warm seat on the chair where you were sitting can be seen as a polite thing to do or as a serious misconduct. These contradictory codes are a source of endless misunderstandings. A ‘politically correct’ approach nowadays may consist in inquiring about local customs prior to travel (the possession of some knowledge about local customs possibly partaking of a strategy of distinction). Yet, when the ways of others fundamentally contradict your own rules, where should propriety lie? In the complacent adoption of foreign habits or the inflexible observance of the norms that have been inculcated in you? The problem has been particularly acute on the occasion of meetings with diplomatic representatives or in the age of colonial empires. Having to take off his shoes was almost humiliating for a British officer in Asia. Similarly, the idea of removing one’s turban was simply inconceivable

9  Distinguished Manners 

149

within some Indian communities (it being viewed as a symbol of total surrender). Questions of intercultural sensitivity appear crucial on the ethical level as well, with its often universal claims. The Romans asked themselves if only very cultured persons were able to understand the ins and outs of moral systems, and one can always wonder whether the failure to respect such and such a precept is the result of ignorance or a deliberate act. In those societies where morality played a crucial role for status affirmation (as with the Junzis of Confucian China, for instance, i.e. gentlemen who claimed to be superiorly virtuous), it often proved quite difficult to accommodate external codes.15 A fascinating configuration has to do with judgements about the behaviour of others. In the event of a breach of this or that rule, does proper conduct lie in not appearing to detect the faux pas or being offended by it? How ought one to react to blunders? Should one express compassion, come to the rescue of the person concerned, or laugh for the sake of solidarity (in the Chinese way)? We know that in certain contexts, the convention can go so far as to replicate the error! (E.g. spilling wine on the tablecloth.) And what about the attitude towards guests who inadvertently and momentarily look ridiculous? Should one pretend not to notice anything or tell them? The range of possible options is instructive. One must also look at possible evolutions. For instance, it is highly revealing to see how, in connection with the rise of sociability, propriety may have become a key criterion of distinction. Thus the term ‘lady’ henceforth refers not so much to a woman of high birth as to an impeccably well-behaved person, regardless of her status. In those times and circles where elites constantly used to scrutinise each other, a full mastery of good manners was implicitly expected and could result in a kind of rivalry. However, there obviously have been periods when quite a few rules ended up appearing outmoded, artificial and even demeaning in the eyes of some people. It therefore often proves relevant to highlight reactions from eras of rigorous self-control to phases of emancipation aiming at more emphasis on individual spontaneity and authenticity.16 Here, it may be necessary to opt for a micro-analytical framework, considering which standards tend to evolve and which social actors mainly contribute to the development of new codes. I could mention, for example, the case of ceremonial ablutions at table, which for a while were to be a major

150 

J.-P. Daloz

distinctive practice (including refinements such as the use of aromatic waters, of various containers intended for rinsing the mouth and the fingers respectively) until it was finally deemed rather unpalatable and abandoned. To take another illustration, the role of women largely left on their own during the 1914–1918 conflict, as well as the importance of social mixing in the trenches, were put forward, among other possible reasons, when it came to explaining the advent of the ‘roaring twenties’ with their easy-going attitudes. Still concerning dynamics, the comparative analyst is necessarily sensitive to perspectives taking into consideration the relationship to foreign models, whether they are used as a reference or a foil. For instance, regarding the case of the United States, it seems that the early colonists were quite conscious of their unique character and that they seldom tried to imitate the manners of the English elites (from which they rarely descended anyway), especially since they had to survive in a fairly hostile environment. The war of independence and the adoption of the republic were to reinforce anti-aristocratic sentiments. It is often said in this part of the world that what counts above all is character, the ability to overcome difficult situations, rather than learning and systematically observing certain rules. Admittedly, the omnipresence of religion would temper these tendencies somewhat and in the aftermath of the Civil War, we have the interlude of the ‘Gilded Age’ with its nouveaux riches fascinated by European upper-class etiquette. Furthermore, the waves of immigration from Ireland, Scandinavia, Italy and Eastern Europe were to complicate the picture, culturally speaking. However, the well-known ‘relaxed style’ eventually prevailed in the twentieth century, setting itself up as a model liable to express, in its own way, a form of distinction.17 It appears essential to pinpoint which areas are concerned. Indeed, one of the priorities within research on manners is to identify which are perceived as particularly meaningful for a certain society. Apart from current prescriptions and proscriptions in the fields of greetings, mastery of the body, cleanliness and presentation of self, many of the distinctive facets studied in this book could definitely be approached from the point of view of manners. It is thus common to talk about ‘table manners’, ‘correct speech’ or ‘dress codes’,18 but ways of behaving on the road, for example, may also be considered. To support his thesis on the process of

9  Distinguished Manners 

151

civilisation, Norbert Elias evoked the passage from a world where moving from place to place was extremely dangerous and uncertain (including constant risks of being attacked) to a universe governed by a very restrictive highway code. Studies in socio-psychology show that, since compliance with the norms is now taken for granted, reactions may be all the more indignant when some people knowingly violate such conventions.19 However, being able to control one’s anger even in this kind of circumstance, may contribute to a distinguished image. Undoubtedly, as we have seen (and I will come back to this in the chapter on precedence), vehicles potentially represent major vectors of symbolic affirmation, and those of us who regularly drive on every continent know that entirely different logics often do prevail. This is why the analysis of manners must take into account not only the normative corpus but actual practices. The manuals concerned obviously constitute valuable sources informing us about the legitimate codes and ideals, especially for historians who are not in a position to make observations. Nevertheless, the latter can rely on various testimonies (from correspondence to memoirs) liable to shed light on possible gaps between standards and concrete behaviour. In keeping with what I mentioned at the outset, it is important to understand that there are several kinds of texts. Typologies have been proposed, differentiating in particular works focusing on morality and good conduct (following religious principles or not), others dealing with etiquette at court, and still others describing the codes prevailing in ‘high society’, as well as the mistakes to avoid when you are brought to frequent these circles. It appears at the very least that it is necessary to distinguish between two major veins. The first (which dates back to the beginning of the Roman Empire, goes on in the medieval treatises for clerics, later in Erasmus’ De Civilitate and in much more recent volumes) defends a broad conception of civility, likely to be taught to any human being. The second which concerns mainly elitist, aristocratic and then fashionable circles (possibly encompassing rich members of the bourgeoisie) is not devoid of passages related to distinction. Sociologically speaking, beyond what happens to be recommended, discouraged or prohibited, it is especially relevant to ask who writes these manuals and for which readers. Thus Castiglione, author of a kind of

152 

J.-P. Daloz

guide of courtesan excellence, as we have seen (Chap. 7), suggested guidelines meant for nobles persuaded of their innate superiority but nonetheless able to appreciate recommendations aimed at ever more grace and perfection. On the other hand, Erasmus, a sworn opponent of court ceremonies, intended to teach good manners and to undertake an educational enterprise with a universal vocation (including children). In the nineteenth century, quite a few authors (often anonymous, but claiming to be authorities in the matter) published introductory books especially intended, it seems, for upstarts. The latter were much preoccupied with codes of recognition at the top, as well as behaviours likely to be perceived as vulgar. Symptomatically, there is hardly any question of morality here and the tables of contents refer rather to places (the living room, the dining room, the opera) or specific occasions (tea party, dinner, balls, and so forth).20 Notwithstanding the obviously primordial nature of social conditioning, as well as of those books stating prescribed conducts and prohibitions, one should not forget other competing sources, such as columns in women’s magazines. I also think it appropriate to take into account certain fictions featuring characters embodying counter-models. However, the question that always arises in this case is whether authors revel in portraying the borderline evolutions of their era, or anticipate them in order to shock public opinion and possibly instigate subversion.21 Before closing this chapter, it should be pointed out that manners are sometimes held to concern mainly women: either as chief custodians of morality, or (in a perspective of distinction) because this is an area to which they can commit themselves more easily than to others. It is well known that in the upper strata, the education of girls has long focused on conduct and decorum with a view to make them attractive at nubile age, implying that they would be accomplished mistresses of the house. In the West, the image of the wife ruling over the domestic sphere, the living room in particular, but also the accepted idea that ladies would be more sensitive to the codes of propriety have contributed significantly to reinforce the idea of a division of tasks related to social distinction. Conversely, whether we consider, say, the British cultural context or that of the large landowners of southern American states in the nineteenth century, it turns out that most men would not be inclined to do too much in

9  Distinguished Manners 

153

matters of politeness, or would even resist any kind of formality perceived as excessive, for fear of appearing unmanly.22 However, as is often the case when one undertakes such a broad review, it proves difficult to go very far in terms of general statements. One needs only to think of the theme of gallantry which, in some cultures, leads men to submit to the expectations of (respectable) women, systematically treated as superior in the name of good manners, including when they are of a relatively lower social rank. Obviously, as feminists have not failed to point out, such indulgence maintains the notion of a ‘weaker sex’. Nevertheless, for gentlemen, the question remains once again to what extent complying with the demands of their female companions in this way is mainly intended to glorify them or to publicly demonstrate their own distinction, as opposed to significantly less deferential male behaviour in other circles.

Notes 1. On ‘exquisite politeness’ as a sign of elitist complicity in the seventeenth century, cf. D. Masseau, Une histoire du bon goût, Paris: Perrin, 2014, pp. 64 ff. 2. Formerly, a society woman was never supposed to talk to anyone who had not been introduced to her. However, this did not apply to fashionable evening parties where it was assumed that only well-behaved people were invited. 3. As can be seen, for instance, in E. Wharton’s The House of Mirth, Ware: Wordsworth, 1997 [1905], p. 12. 4. It is even possible to argue that the more difficult or even dramatic conditions are (from wars to natural disasters), the more they offer a suitable setting. 5. See, for example, C.S. Jaeger, The Origins of Courtliness: Civilizing Trends and the Formation of Courtly Ideals, 939–1210, Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1985; F. Whelan, The Making of Manners and Morals in Twelfth-Century England: The Book of the Civilised Man, Abingdon: Routledge, 2017. However, it should be noted that Elias had pointed out that a feeling of shame could apply, especially in the presence of a superior.

154 

J.-P. Daloz

6. Most notably those of the précieuses. See E. Brambilla, ‘Modèle et méthode dans la “Société de cour” de Norbert Elias’, in D. Romagnoli (ed.), La ville et la cour. Les bonnes et les mauvaises manières, Paris: Fayard, 1991; J. Duindam, Myths of Power: Norbert Elias and the Early Modern European Court, Amsterdam: Amsterdam UP, 1995. 7. See C. Wouters, Informalization: Manners & Emotions Since 1890, London: Sage, 2007. This was undeniable during the 1920s and the 1960s–1970s, in particular. Nevertheless, the rise of the ‘politically correct’ movement in recent years is, I believe, likely to impose new types of constraints regarding self-control. 8. In England, Puritan ‘good society’ was thus to try and reform the morals of the people. See P. Burke, Popular Culture in Early Modern Europe, Aldershot: Wilwood House, 1978. On the American case, cf. R.L Bushman, The Refinement of America, op. cit. (Chapter XII). 9. Cf. my Rethinking Social Distinction, op. cit. (Chapter 4). 10. This was particularly hard for older African men condemned to remain perfectly docile to the injunctions issued by wives and even white children, in humiliating contrast with their own cultural codes. See A.K. Shutt, Manners Make a Nation: Racial Etiquette in Southern Rhodesia, Rochester: University of Rochester Press, 2015. 11. Cf. O.  Scaglione, Knights at Court: Courtliness, Chivalry and Courtesy from Ottonian Germany to the Italian Renaissance, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1991. 12. I borrow these two illustrations from M. Curtin’s monograph, Propriety and Position: A Study of Victorian Manners, New York: Garland, 1987, which is extremely valuable. 13. F. Cosandey, Le rang, op. cit., p. 192. 14. Å. Daun, Swedish Mentality, University Park: The Pennsylvania State UP, 1999, pp. 16–17. 15. Cf. D. Berg & C. Starr (eds), The Quest for Gentility in China: Negotiations beyond Gender and Class, Abingdon: Routledge, 2007. 16. A.M. Schlessinger, in his book Learning How to Behave: A Historical Study of American Etiquette Books, New York: Macmillan, 1947, had suggested a succession of four ‘ages’ in terms of manners: that of morality, that of the rules to follow, that of a kind of art in the matter, and finally that of informality. 17. Ibid. See also J.F. Kasson, Rudeness and Civility: Manners in Nineteenth-­ Century Urban America, New  York: Hill & Wang, 1990. From a

9  Distinguished Manners 

155

c­omparative point of view, this leads to carefully distinguish between cultures that attach great importance to formal rules and others that do not. 18. These are sometimes very subtle. For example, a woman may usually keep her gloves on in the event of a handshake, a kiss on the hand, while dancing, or during a cocktail party if she just holds her drink, but not if she touches any food and during dinner. It is always relevant to try to grasp the cultural logics likely to explain such codes. 19. Cf. J.H. Roth, ‘Heartfelt Driving: Discourses on Manners, Safety, and Emotion in Japan’s Era of Mass Motorization’, The Journal of Asian Studies, vol. 71/1 (2012), pp. 171–192, and his references to studies on the case of Los Angeles. 20. I refer here to M.  Morgan, Manners, Morals and Class in England, 1774–1858, New  York: St Martin’s Press, 1994, despite some shortcomings. 21. American literature specialists have studied the subject a great deal. See among others N. Bentley, The Ethnography of Manners: Hawthorne, James, Wharton, Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1995. 22. Cf. for example S.E.  Whyman, Sociability and Power in Late-Stuart England, op.  cit., and B. Wyatt-Brown, Southern Honor: Ethics and Behavior in the Old South, New York: Oxford UP, 2nd edn, 2007.

10 Cultivation and Linguistic Competence

I have kept the most obvious of the incorporated signs for the end. I mean those pertaining to speech and culture (here, in the narrow sense of the word). Unfortunately, they have been treated in a problematically reductive way by some grand theories, whether they reason in terms of ‘(re)production’ of ‘legitimate’ language as a major ‘form of domination’, or structurally equate knowledge and speech with power.1 For authors adopting such lines of reasoning, the next step is logically to start deconstructing ‘authoritative’ language and to reconstruct it in a ‘politically correct’ manner (involving the multiplication of euphemised designations, the creation of neutral personal pronouns, the feminisation of titles, inclusive writing, and so forth). However, it should be underlined at the outset that the importance given to these two areas varies greatly across contexts in the eyes of elites. If vast knowledge was sometimes highly appreciated (as in, say, Song China), it was little sought after, or was even mocked at the upper level in many societies. Similarly, an impeccable command of language may have had considerable value in classical Athens, in seventeenth-century France, and this is still the case today in Oxford or Cambridge, but it appears to be a rather secondary criterion in the United States. It should be added that remarkable developments have taken place. For example, © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 J.-P. Daloz, Expressions of High Status, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3_10

157

158 

J.-P. Daloz

from the Tudor dynasty onwards, erudition became a new virtue, almost the essence of the nobility, whereas traditional chivalry had despised all that sounded ‘clerky’.2 In the face of philosophical generalities or the cut-and-dried statements of normative sociology, it is necessary, once again, to bring in multidisciplinary, contributions: from relativist ethno-linguistics to the ‘social history of language’.

Symptomatic Ways of Speaking There is no doubt that the ability to express oneself clearly, to use a rich and precise vocabulary, is often a major indicator of social standing; all the more so if it is accompanied by a correct use of syntax and a notable absence of grammatical errors, or words, liable to discredit you. In line with previous developments about manners, distinctive speech has to do with codes that are not only to be followed, but to be used with finesse. It is, of course, easy for proponents of critical sociology to reason solely in terms of respect of, or deviations from ‘arbitrary norms’ liable to signify social position. However, the socio-linguistic approach is only one among the possible ways to look at those realities. It is also essential to consider the resources specific to each language, what they allow, suggest or not. To deliberately take the word at the heart of our subject, I would remind the reader that in many Western languages, the term ‘distinction’ (or distinto, distinción, distinzione, etc.) first and foremost literally indicates the idea of a marked difference. We know that it gradually came to acquire a societal (but not yet symbolic) meaning, concerning, for instance, the fundamental demarcation between the three estates of the Ancien Régime in France (the clergy, the nobles and the commoners). At that point, the word was rather used in the plural and seemed to be intended mainly to avert the risk of any confusion of status. It was only later that the notion took on a more figurative meaning, referring to everything that could contribute to the manifestation of eminence, and finally (during the nineteenth century) to a kind of overall ascendancy.

10  Cultivation and Linguistic Competence 

159

This being said, we must recognise that within cultures which advocate relative individual equality, the term ‘distinction’ is hardly present, or even non-existent. Thus, in Norwegian, the word distinksjon is used essentially for military decorations, as was the Latin distinctio under the Roman Republic. Similarly, it is relevant to point out that, in some languages, there are several possible translations, each of which carries positive or depreciatory connotations (as in Hebrew, for example), or that in Japan the creation of an approximate term dates back only to the aftermath of the Second World War. Without necessarily having to revisit the everlasting anthropological issue as to whether mental representations depend on linguistic categories or vice versa, and the (more sociological) question of the extent to which language reflects or shapes social divisions, one must emphasise that the subject is far more complex than the monolithic readings that have sometimes been given of it. From a comparative point of view, it is important to note that in many contexts there is no clear discontinuity in the way people express themselves between the bottom and the top of society. It has also been pointed out that distinction might be based on the paradoxical satisfaction of not being understood, due to the use of sophisticated vocabulary which is not easily intelligible to the audience (but remains impressive all the same). On the other hand, I am inclined to refer to the case I once encountered of a brilliant speaker constantly making innuendos in front of people that obviously missed most of them. An analysis in terms of ‘symbolic violence’, as Bourdieu would have been inclined to call it, was plainly inadequate here. A sophisticated discourse requires auditors somewhat capable of grasping insinuations. Taking a close look at different expressions of social superiority through speech leads to consider many aspects and to highlight many ambiguities. We can start from what I have begun to mention: i.e. the clarity of the formulations, the breadth and adequacy of the vocabulary, the grammatical and syntactical rigour. Quite often, it proves essential to demonstrate one’s knowledge of the most difficult rules. In French, neatly separating the double consonants, making liaisons wisely (e.g. after certain numbers) underlines in passing that one masters spelling. Systematically avoiding barbarisms and solecisms will highlight that great care is given

160 

J.-P. Daloz

to language. This will be complemented by attentive listening and immediate detection of possible incorrectness in others; the slightest deficiency possibly being synonymous with social rejection by those who attach a lot of importance to these precepts. In England, it has been axiomatic for centuries that when speaking, the accent is absolutely crucial, encompassing flawless pronunciation. This involves in particular the correct placement of the stress on this or that syllable, but also a good mastery of the ‘h’s that are aspirated and those that are supposed to remain silent. This legacy of the Norman conquest has been such a decisive signal that one did not hesitate to speak of the ‘fatal letter’. Secondly, of course, the accent can refer to various social milieux, from the cockney to that of the gentleman. In his famous play, Pygmalion (the source of the film My Fair Lady), George Bernard Shaw sets out in detail what is at stake in relation to social advancement. However, the issue is more ambiguous than it might appear at first glance. For example, some Labour leaders in England did cultivate their working-class accent, as a proof of authenticity in their role as political representatives. On the other hand, the drawling, palatal intonations, considered to be most elegant in upper circles during the eighteenth century, came to be seen as affected and were disparaged.3 In the United States, African-Americans from underprivileged neighbourhoods are frequently accused of mumbling in an almost unintelligible manner, swallowing half the syllables. I had the opportunity, in New Haven, to note that this was corrected by teachers, who, however, took care not to stigmatise the pupils. In their defence, specialists from the minority in question pointed out the fact that under the slave period, the goal was to devise a language incomprehensible to the whites. Thirdly, accents may, of course, be related to regional areas. Parisians, for example, have often expressed amusement, if not contempt, vis-à-vis the inflections of southern French accents or the rolling of the ‘r’ in certain places like Burgundy (the well-known writer, Colette, used to suffer from this). Nevertheless, here too, it should be noted that the negative judgements are sometimes reciprocal and that in the provinces the ‘parigot’ accent can bring just as much discredit.4

10  Cultivation and Linguistic Competence 

161

The study of the discrepancies between elite and popular language may be based on objective studies, aiming notably at measuring the frequency of use of such and such words. When it comes to social distinction, however, it is important not to neglect subjective dimensions. They might involve the discomfort possibly felt regarding the use of words deemed ‘vulgar’ (it being expected that one use less unpleasant equivalents to refer to particularly crude realities). There would also be much to say about swearing, blasphemy and even the tendency to abbreviate words, which is sometimes perceived as coarse. Yet it proves quite difficult to generalise, knowing that the elitist lexicon may include euphemism as well as emphatic talk, for example. The value of historical perspective must be emphasised here, whether it leads to identify major dynamics or fashions (e.g. the emergence, diffusion and disappearance of neologisms). Specialists agree that it was especially with the advent of court societies that a gap between various ways of speaking widened. Chroniclers and witnesses report that Louis XIV had an exceptional mastery of French, a language associated with the common man, unlike Latin but much preferable to patois (i.e. local dialects). We know that it was destined to become for some time that of the European elite. As for the analyses of the current period, they tend to show a degree of laxity, since the deliberate use of shocking expressions, even at the highest levels in many countries, is no longer necessarily condemned. One hypothesis here is that this could partake of strategies of distinction, supposedly in the name of spontaneity or with a view to add piquancy to what one says. It should also be pointed out that this is an attitude which does not replace the previous ones, but often grafts itself onto them—thus contributing to postmodern confusion and the growing difficulty of providing sociological generalisations. When confronted with gross grammatical or syntactical errors, however, one sometimes wonders whether they stem from ignorance or unconcern. Another perspective calls to look not so much at the ‘discursive practices’ of social groups considered in isolation than to interactions between individuals belonging to various milieux. Will the dominant person adapt his or her language accordingly (as one might do it when addressing a child, a foreigner who are known to have limited knowledge of a

162 

J.-P. Daloz

language)? Or, on the contrary, will one stick to one’s usual speech? Socio-­ psychologists point out, quite logically, that much depends on the nature of what is expected. Is the goal to communicate effectively? (e.g. if there is a need for information), in which case efforts may be made to be understood. Or is the intention primarily to demonstrate one’s higher status through a better command of the language? Similarly, there are instances (e.g. during a competitive exam or a recruitment interview) where it is rational to try to prove one’s superiority over the other candidates (while being sufficiently humble in relation to the jury), and there are some where this would not make much sense.5 The analysis of language interactions becomes immensely more complex as soon as a comparative perspective is introduced, including in the equation both the potentialities and the constraints specific to each language. In French, one inevitably thinks of the tutoiement (informal ‘you’) as opposed to the vouvoiement (formal ‘you’), especially when they are used in a deliberately asymmetrical way. Nevertheless, resorting to the latter with subordinates can be a form of distinction. We shall see in the chapter on servants that a maid might be required to address her employer only in the third person (‘Madame souhaite-t-elle que…’ that is: ‘Does Madam wish that…’). Particularly noteworthy are those languages, like Japanese, which offer a wide array of word endings to corroborate the status of interlocutors, with more or less marked demonstrations of deference or modesty. Ethnology has highlighted the existence of a specific language in some Polynesian islands, such as Samoa or Tonga, when addressing chiefs. Here, sticking to the common one would be considered as an insult to them. In researching this captivating theme of ‘respect language’, the most extraordinary case I have come across is that of the Javanese culture deeply permeated by the opposition between the alus universe (connoting all that is refined, polished, brilliant in connection with the aristocratic elite) and its kasar counterpart (evoking anything crude, uncivilised or rough, with reference to uncouth villagers). Whoever addresses a member of the upper strata is supposed to use alus expressions, whereas, remarkably enough, the latter are expected to opt for low Javanese (hence referring to the kasar sphere) when they happen to talk to inferiors. Most of the time, however, they would call upon intermediaries.

10  Cultivation and Linguistic Competence 

163

Another way to tackle distinction in this field is to look at group conversations and to take into account not so much what is said but the power relationships that transpire from the initiative of cutting someone off, talking over him or her, ignoring the person or suddenly imposing a new topic of discussion. Cautious speech is frequently the fate of rather dominated individuals, as if their participation was preceded by a sort of self-abasement. Conversely, one of the most insidious ways to signal one’s claim to a leading role is to ask a question and then sneak away without waiting for the answer (as if to imply that you do not give the slightest importance to it). Of course, one should study such behaviour in relation to bodily attitudes, gestures, and exchanges of eye contact (to be considered in Chap. 16). However, it matters not to succumb to the lure of cursory examinations and to grasp what is happening as the interactions take place. In the many seminars I have attended at Oxford or Yale, I have often found that distinction could be expressed either by a remarkably rapid delivery (possibly a proof of extreme mental agility, unless it is an indication of nervousness) or, on the contrary, by very calm speech, giving a sense of complete control which is just as impressive. Similarly, keeping silent may be an indication that one has nothing to say, but it might also reflect a contemptuous attitude. Admittedly, some trans-historical patterns can be detected. I am thinking, for instance, of those young people who are taught at an early age how to address an audience and the consummate art of rhetoric. There is a certain continuity in this respect from the Roman adolescents who were destined for the forum and trained to persuade others, to the future French orators of the seventeenth century meant to assert themselves sooner or later in some academy, parliament or the judiciary, up to the present-day upcoming elite educated in famous private schools that regularly organise debating competitions. Nevertheless, as soon as one makes the effort to pay closer attention to what matters in terms of distinction, significant disparities can be observed. If we consider, for example, the configuration of court conversations in the past, it is well known that flashes of wit, puns and even cutting remarks likely to make the assembly laugh, were much appreciated and could be endlessly quoted afterwards. With regard to the latter,

164 

J.-P. Daloz

however, the question arises as to who constitutes the target (absent persons most of the time), what their status is and who dares to make this kind of personal attack? In some eighteenth-century novels, we find depictions of serious verbal duels, intended to destabilise opponents and to publicly ridicule them. When coming across fierce but superlatively brilliant exchanges, one cannot help but wonder if it is not first and foremost the writer who seeks to show himself off here. Historians would rather tend to argue that (at least within the salons of the Parisian high bourgeoisie) if high-society life had dedicated places for the celebration of culture, and of the most sophisticated language, gatherings were supposed to promote harmony among those present (cf. Chap. 12). It was considered good taste to remain light and pleasant, not to give in to pedantry nor to endless digs, as could be the case at court. Some certainly tended to lead the conversation more than others, but everyone was supposed to be assiduous and to participate. In many contexts, the strict order of speakers, clearly underlining the hierarchy of those present, represents yet another configuration. An additional topic worthy of attention here is that of foreign language skills. Among upper-class families with bi-national parents or couples belonging to cosmopolitan, expatriate elites, it is not uncommon for children to be trilingual from the outset. The father speaks in one language, the mother in a second and the nanny in a third, still others being possibly acquired later. Quite often, however, multilingualism appears to be far more related to the dominated or dominant nature of one’s mother tongue than to social status. A Finn must have a good English if she wants to be understood outside her country. In sub-Saharan Africa, one frequently witnesses small traders who are most comfortable in four or five languages (local and international) essential to their activity. A recurrent view in the critical vein of the sociology of education is the existence of an inevitable gap between those who go no further than foreign languages superficially learnt at school and the privileged boys and girls from the bourgeoisie likely to speak them fluently, having benefited from stays abroad at an early stage. But listening to foreign radio channels, watching subtitled films are within reach for many and allow for rapid progress. It is a matter of will and application quite as much as one of social level.

10  Cultivation and Linguistic Competence 

165

One may retain the point that languages are either dominant or dominated, according to their number of speakers and their reach. However, from the point of view of distinction, it is important to reason in terms of linguistic prestige, which is not exactly the same thing. I recalled that French had enjoyed an elitist aura for a while. This was essentially a courtly phenomenon, echoing in diplomatic relations. Still today, in Great Britain or the United States, the fact of inserting here and there an expression in the langue de Molière is likely to make an impression (not just in the culinary field), even if one is far from mastering it. This is even truer concerning the knowledge of very rare languages or those that require considerable efforts (such as Chinese). It is also possible to favour a more ‘macro’ socio-political perspective taking into account overall power relationships. The typical case here is that of a language that ends up supplanting the others in a national context or during a period of colonisation. In this second conjuncture, the question remains whether the colonisers wish to impose their own language, and even to eradicate native spoken words, or do not mind the persistence of the latter. Quite often, the local elites, educated in new schooling institutions, learned the imported language, possibly with a view to distinguish themselves from the bulk of the population. One should point out, however, that this has not always been the case. In Nigeria, for example, many traditional rulers accepted to send their youngest sons to follow the teachings of the whites, but seldom the heir to the throne. Moreover, we know that in the struggle for independence phase, a certain pride in the local languages was usually to resurface, with some contempt or not for that of the coloniser. Of course, the world of writing, long limited to scribes and priests, must be taken into account as well. Illustrations of illiterate rulers (the Normans at the time of the conquest of England, for instance) are not lacking and one must keep in mind that there have been great civilisations without any writing system. Unless members of the elite tend to rely heavily on personal secretaries, distinction potentially concerns several aspects here. It may be considered that writing is trickier than oral expression in so far as it involves the difficulty of spelling. In many cases (in the East as in the West), one must not neglect writing in the calligraphic sense of the term, certain languages having not only an

166 

J.-P. Daloz

identifiable graphic system but also an aesthetic quality. This invites us to take an interest in the instruments used, sometimes quite sophisticated (such as golden quills), liable to confirm an impression of refinement. Here, however, one should keep in mind technical evolutions regarding supports (from wax tablets, rolls, codex, wood, papyrus or parchment to modern paper). Even more than oral communication, writing raises the complex issue of style, a rather ambivalent term that can refer to both the collective and the individual. Epistolary exchanges, notably, may express both a perfect mastery of the rules in force and a capacity to innovate. This brings us back to those statements about ‘legitimate’ language, perceived as arbitrary (although they usually have their internal logics) but potentially mobilised for distinctive purposes. I readily admit that there is no lack of cases where the elites in power have had the last word. For example, there was a major debate in Rome as to whether a term used by Tiberius was ‘good Latin’ or not. It was concluded that since the emperor had used it, it must have been so.6 Even more controversial are the situations of confrontation between competing authorities. Flipping through the Littré dictionary, we learn that the expression à l’encontre de (counter to) was banished at court, but that Bossuet was to declare it acceptable, to the great displeasure of many. The fact remains that (the special case of writers set aside) to grant oneself liberties with conventions, to try and impose one’s own style, at the risk of upsetting norms, can be a means of distinction in some places.

Cultivated Minds Let us now move to the symbolic dimensions of knowledge, possibly combined to claims of a ‘superior intelligence’. To tackle this subject is to enter a universe with multiple ramifications. As a starting point, one might allude to the classical Greek philosophy favouring a sort of intellectual aristocracy. We could also consider the lessons of anthropology showing us how certain protagonists maintain the belief that their esoteric knowledge makes it possible to control the environment, and in particular to gain the benevolence of surrounding supernatural forces.

10  Cultivation and Linguistic Competence 

167

Nevertheless, as I pointed out at the beginning of the chapter, the importance given to the realm of the mind is highly variable. Ferdinand III of Habsburg (emperor of the Holy Roman Empire) was passionate about mathematics. His son and successor, Leopold I, was keen on physics, cosmology, and ancient history. However, the vast majority of sovereigns paid absolutely no attention to these fields, while focusing on quite different skills. In some contexts, distinguished knowledge prides itself on being abreast of the latest advances. In others, its authority is deeply rooted in a strong cultural tradition, making ample use of quotations. At times, one observes a patent disdain for the world of books, albeit with significant exceptions. I have in mind the case of those erstwhile planters in the Southern United States who only seemed to enjoy the writings of antiquity (also a slave society) and particularly Stoic thought. Further north, technical subjects were far more highly valued, with their specialised vocabulary creating a distance from the populace (jargon not being the exclusive domain of elites, however). This is not unrelated to the gap between those who indulge in disinterested studies (from ancient languages to art history) and those whose goal is directly vocational. It causes a rift between young people in search of a veneer of culture (as well as, perhaps, the prestige of a degree awarded by some very notorious university) and students looking for professional training. In the same vein, one thinks of the discrepancy between those for whom the acquisition of knowledge is akin to dilettantism, and those who risk their health in their studious pursuits (from rhetoricians to-be, who used to wear out their eyes all night long, inhaling the smoke of candles, to some of today’s students who resort to amphetamines to ‘hang in there’). This does not mean that we should stick to the ongoing ideological debates between authors who defend a liberal, competitive vision, and others who highlight fundamental inequalities and their cumulative effects. What matters in the perspective of this book is rather to develop an awareness of divergent relationships to knowledge and education. Thus it is noteworthy that a number of contemporary young billionaires are ‘self-made-(wo)men’ having accumulated high-level diplomas. They may happen to be ‘heirs’, in the sense that they are from upper-class backgrounds, but they also had to work very hard from their earliest years at

168 

J.-P. Daloz

school to access the best institutions, with the support of a great many private lessons throughout their childhood and adolescence. It is therefore arguable whether such accomplishments should be interpreted in terms of privilege or tremendous efforts. In any case, schooling takes the form of a tough obstacle course, where it is expected that one endlessly prove one’s superior ‘worth’ in order to reach the next stage.7 One is tempted to refer to these exceedingly demanding paths (so frequent in Japan or South Korea, in particular) against the Manichaean vein of current sociological literature, describing famous private boarding schools essentially from the angle of a self-confident elitist world (even though there are scholarship holders). What these latter approaches emphasise is the commodification of education.8 Despite their very normative tone, it must be admitted that such writings contain stimulating analyses about socialisation, both primary (those high-class students having forged a dominant image within their families) and secondary (once in those schools). Undeniably, what is at stake is much more than the inculcation of academic knowledge. The constitution of world-class networks appears to be quite crucial. Besides, some monographs show precisely how the elite school culture is defined against that of state establishments in poor districts, no one rushing noisily in the corridors or neglecting to greet a teacher. Emulation is clearly maintained, distinguishing the most deserving individuals, praised to the skies during the awards speeches, or whose names might even appear on official plaques. Likewise, the success of former students now occupying lofty positions in society is constantly evoked. The creed of this type of institution is indeed most interesting to dissect. For instance, there is much talk about ‘developing qualities’ (suggesting that they are already present, if not innate) in the expectation of an extraordinary future which is nearly inevitable.9 The rather conventional character of this literature is unfortunate, however. Heavily influenced by Bourdieusian approaches in terms of domination, habitus, and reproduction, it is also fuelling the everlasting neo-Marxist fantasy of a globalised, transnational elite. Now, whoever has had the good fortune to teach on every continent knows that, notwithstanding possible phenomena of mimicry, the teacher–student relations, and more broadly the atmosphere prevailing on the campuses, prove quite dissimilar, making systematic generalisations debatable.10

10  Cultivation and Linguistic Competence 

169

Beyond this subject of schooling, the study of distinction in connection with the image of the cultivated person is likely to lead us in all kinds of directions. I might mention enigmatic mottos in the aristocratic world (which could be engraved absolutely everywhere, on the pommel of swords, on headboards, etc.), the issue of taste to which I will not return here, but also, for instance, observations gleaned on travels of which one can boast.11 Some themes have proven extremely relevant or surprisingly rich. I am thinking, among other things, of the display of knowledge specifically concerning luxury products, from sports cars, watches, handbags of the highest-end brands to the greatest wines and their best vintages. What struck me during certain conversations is that such demonstrations of expertise are often wholly theoretical, based on knowledge acquired in specialised magazines or through the Internet. One can passionately talk about the respective performances of the McLaren 720 S and the Jaguar type E new ‘Chip Foose version’ in a totally virtual way, without having the slightest chance of ever sitting in this kind of vehicle, nor of experiencing what it feels to go from 0 to 100 km/h in three seconds. In Benin, I had the opportunity to chat with idle young men who wanted to show me that they knew everything about the innovations of the latest smartphones and were boasting about it. We are dealing here with a universe they fantasise about, but which nonetheless constitutes a source of distinction at their level. Among many relevant topics of interest, I would like to mention libraries. They are particularly fascinating in so far as they are located at the intersection of external and incorporated signs of distinction. From the very beginning, the question arose: should the beautiful collections of books be perceived as intended to reflect the knowledge of the owner of the place, or be considered mainly as prestige goods? Seneca, in the era of the scrolls and the first codex, already expressed a certain scepticism at the sight of sumptuous libraries, as if the external refinement took precedence over the content. Later on, in the two last centuries of the medieval period, when manuscripts illuminated in the scriptorium were magnificently bound, ornamented, and even possibly enhanced with precious stones, one wonders what prevailed for great book lovers, such as the French King Charles V, his younger brother Jean de Berry and above all

170 

J.-P. Daloz

the Duke of Burgundy, Philip the Good. The use of noble materials (e.g. parchment, selected leathers and gold), the one-off character of the works (which was to explain the occasional subsequent reticence towards printed books), their personalised appearance (including the omnipresence of heraldry, especially on the frontispiece) made of them obviously rare and impressive objects. However, in a few cases, the intellectual and also religious dimension (as with ‘books of hours’), left no doubt about the value of the contents, all the more so when the overall number of volumes seemed more crucial than their degree of aesthetic excellence. A judicious question to ask is to what extent they were readily exposed, for example on a lectern, or when taken to mass, or on the contrary kept in locked cabinets and only shown, very briefly, to the most illustrious visitors, as if to make them more enticing.12 Some scholars stress the major importance of libraries within the villas of the German families of the great bourgeoisie, eager to ostensibly proclaim how cultivated they were. In his memoirs, the son of sociologist Werner Sombart (whose work on distinction is not negligible, as we shall see in the next chapter) goes so far as to consider that those villas seemed to have been built mainly to shelter huge quantities of books, symbolising the desire of this social class on the ascent to appropriate the world.13 We are not dealing here with what the Goncourt brothers have pejoratively called livres meublants, that is volumes meant for decoration rather than actual reading. As a matter of fact, we do have fact testimonies of buyers trying to obtain a few meters-long collection of works exclusively selected with regard to the colour of their spines, and even of American customers going to the bookstore with a sample of the predominant shade of their living room in order to choose series that would harmonise best with it. In some women’s magazines (which, unlike the books, were read), it was even advised how to strategically place, in empty spaces, books that were leaning or laid horizontally, so as to suggest that they had just been opened. Fitzgerald shows his Gatsby having acquired an entire library, with a majority of volumes whose pages had never been cut. To come back to the question of specialised knowledge, book collections sometimes reflect a genuine interest. It happens that, while visiting mansions in Great Britain or elsewhere, one comes across shelves with

10  Cultivation and Linguistic Competence 

171

homogeneous content, for example essentially on botany or horticulture. They indeed seem to have been consulted as, outside, the garden is very well kept. In Japan, where the literacy rate has long been quite high and the number of books published considerable since the eighteenth century, it appears that some local governors used to gather books on a particular subject of their choice, expressing a real attachment to these writings (following the Mandarin tradition). In the former period, the care given to scrolls under the watchful control of monks, the fact of aerating them annually for weeks, or even the obsession of the shoguns to have several copies distributed in various castles (for fear of fires and looting) already demonstrated a genuine interest in knowledge. Nevertheless, when considering the fact that rolls were strengthened at both ends, the multiplication of ribbons in order to keep them tight, their storage in silk cases, themselves placed in chests, what is suggested is a material concern for status. One wonders about the importance that was attached to the fetishized object and to scholarship, respectively.14 The world of bibliomania raises similar issues. Are we dealing with a transcendent quest for revered writings or a hoarding of prestige goods? The Goncourt brothers may have made fun of ‘livres meublants’ but Edmond (who invited his writer friends to sign the first edition of their works, then had them nicely bound, and finally had their portrait painted on the cover by artists he considered appropriate) did assemble an assortment of precious artefacts, quite difficult to handle and in fact doomed to remain cloistered in display cabinets. All this made Paul Valéry ask, one day, if these were still books. As long as a large proportion of the population was not able to read or write, and the making of volumes was the work of craftsmen, the mere possession of some was in itself distinctive. Things changed dramatically with the spread of literacy and the advent of mass production eventually leading to cheap editions. As the ‘paperback’ has become a consumer good that is widespread and nearly disposable, a new phenomenon has appeared as a countermeasure: that of luxury editions, separately printed and numbered. Clever entrepreneurs have mobilised printers, bookbinders, stylists, but also commercial promoters, booksellers, librarians and associations of bibliophiles, in order to convince potential buyers that educated readers should definitely acquire these kinds of volumes,

172 

J.-P. Daloz

worthy enough to be displayed in their living room and passed on to their descendants. Here, particular attention is paid to binding (rejecting the use of glue, deemed vulgar), to fine leathers and high-quality paper, including many white pages at the beginning and end of the book with the initials of the publisher watermarked. The text with characters of a size far above the average is framed by considerable margins (which are obviously interpretable in terms of ‘conspicuous waste’). The layout and typography are most refined and may be supplemented by illustrations entrusted to famous artists, thus contributing to the prestige of these works which can be either classics fallen into the public domain or signed contemporary writings.15 I would also like to point out two other ways of using books as a mark of distinction. The first consists of producing a few sumptuous volumes (with gilding, protective covers, ornaments on vellum, and so forth) that are not intended for sale, but to be offered as gifts. It can be famous works distributed to valuable acquaintances, or relatives. Leading figures in industry have equally ordered hagiographic stories of their firm with lots of photographs of the founders and of themselves. Secondly, while a few magnates (such as New  York banker John Pierpont Morgan) have assembled extraordinary collections of books, waging merciless battles against one another,16 some have taken pride in building public libraries. This is an ancient tradition, which saw many sovereigns having their names appear in large letters at the entrance to these establishments, or of at least one wing. The most remarkable case in the modern era certainly is that of Andrew Carnegie, who, according to his biographers, never forgot the time when, as a young telegraph operator in Pittsburgh, he had found it very difficult to obtain books before a colonel deigned to lend him his own. He was to build 2,500 libraries around the world, including 1,700 in the United States, but considered that it was up to local authorities to purchase the volumes.

10  Cultivation and Linguistic Competence 

173

Notes 1. See, respectively, P. Bourdieu, Ce que parler veut dire. L’économie des échanges linguistiques, Paris: Fayard, 1982, M. Foucault in, among others, Surveiller et punir. Naissance de la prison, Paris: Gallimard, 1975. 2. Henry VII assembled a real library, insisting that his children be educated. His son, Henry VIII, was able to write poems in four languages and to compose music. Cf. G.  Kipling, The Triumph of Honour: Burgundian Origins of the Elizabethan Renaissance, Leiden: Leiden UP, 1977. 3. Cf. L. Mugglestone, Talking Proper: The Rise of Accent as a Social Symbol, Oxford: Oxford UP, 2nd edn, 2003. 4. As a personal testimony to this, in the 1960s my grandmother was concerned that, because I was in summer contact with young people from the capital on vacation, I might acquire their way of speaking. 5. This is consistent with the ‘speech accommodation’ theories. Cf. M.A. Hogg & D. Abrams, Social Identifications: A Social Psychology of Intergroup Relations and Group Processes, London: Routledge, 1988. 6. A. Wallace-Hadrill, Rome’s Cultural Revolution, Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2008. 7. Cf. C. Freeland’s essay, Plutocrats: The Rise of the New Global Super Rich and the Fall of Everyone Else, New York: Penguin Press, 2012. 8. In the case of New England, I refer to the strange, partly autobiographical, partly denunciatory books by S.R. Khan, Privilege: The Making of an Adolescent Elite at St. Paul’s School, Princeton: Princeton UP, 2011, and R.A. Gaztambide-Fernandez, The Best of the Best: Becoming Elite at an American Boarding School, Cambridge MA: Harvard UP, 2009. 9. See, in particular, A. Courtois’s book, Elite Schooling and Social Inequality: Privilege and Power in Ireland’s Top Private Schools, London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2018. 10. In South Korea, for example, I had the impression of a ‘master-­disciples’ relationship with extraordinarily deferential, but very demanding, female students. Within reputable US universities, many acted as ‘consumers’, seeming to imply that the courses delivered had to live up to the cost; while in Nigeria, there were on-going attempts to personalise the connection. There are also considerable contrasts between the expected way of conducting a seminar in Scandinavia and in France…

174 

J.-P. Daloz

11. On mottos, see G.  Guarino, Representing the King’s Splendour: Communication and Reception of Symbolic Forms of Power in Viceregal Naples, Manchester: Manchester UP, 2010, pp.154 ff. On taste, I refer to the chapter ‘Distinction through taste revisited’, in my book Rethinking Social Distinction, op. cit. 12. Cf. H. Wijsman, Luxury Bound: Illustrated Manuscripts and Noble and Princely Book Ownership in the Burgundian Netherlands (1400–1550), Turnhout: Brepols, 2010; E. Cottereau-Gabillet, ‘Manuscrits de luxe et distinction sociale à la fin du Moyen Âge’, in J.-Ph. Genet and I. Mineo (eds), Marquer la prééminence sociale, Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2014, pp. 283 ff. In addition to his famous meals and gardens, Lucullus remained famous for having given free access to his library. 13. N.  Sombart, Chroniques d’une jeunesse berlinoise, Paris: Quai Voltaire, 1992, p. 64. 14. P. Kornicki, The Book in Japan: A Cultural History from the Beginnings to the Nineteenth Century, Leiden: Brill, 1998. 15. Here I draw on M.L. Benton, Beauty and the Book: Fine Editions and Cultural Distinction in America, New Haven: Yale UP, 2000, which studied this craze during the 1920s, providing an analysis in terms of ‘trickle-­ down’(i.e. a diffusion resulting in a reaction, cf. Chap. 2). 16. For a fascinating insight into the world of bibliophiles, full of eccentrics ready to outdo their competitors, see the anecdotal compilation by N.A. Basbanes, A Gentle Madness: Bibliophiles, Bibliomanes, and the Eternal Passion for Books, New York: Henry Holt and Co., 1995.

Part III Vicarious Display

Entourage High status can also be expressed through those who surround prominent social actors. This is an important, and in many cases essential, aspect, although it has been quite neglected by analysts. Entourages may contribute to pre-eminence by virtue of their own status or impressiveness, because they put their skills at the disposal of the elites they serve, or by ostensibly relieving them of certain tasks. For centuries, what mattered above all used to be a demonstration of strength. In feudal times, one thus had to be imposing enough through the deployment of many loyal men, able to ensure the protection of a lord. In some contexts, however, quality eventually took precedence over quantity and in Europe a dazzling retinue (composed of well-dressed relatives, allies, dependents and servants) was expected to underline the stature and wealth of a prince. Even trips from castle to castle could be part of the relentless effort to display one’s superior status. They provided an opportunity for the powerful to showcase their dignity,1 knowing that a lavish cortege could also include ladies and their attendants, carriages filled up with chests, lackeys in livery as well as beautiful horses. Later on, court life, although more secluded, would make the most of such elements, around the figure of the king or queen.

176 

Vicarious Display

We already have here some of the major ingredients of ‘vicarious display’2 to be discussed in the following chapters: namely, family members actively contributing to the image of distinction, beautifully adorned women, the bolstering presence of representatives from other upper groups, indispensable servants and remarkable animals. That said, to retain a striking entourage does raise problems of a symbolic nature. Indeed, if the protagonists taking centre stage definitely benefit from the presence of others liable to enhance their status (especially in the eyes of rivals), this should not be done at the expense of their own visibility. Seeing oneself magnified by all sorts of supporting actors vying to outshine each other presupposes that one’s primacy is clearly exhibited. It is fundamental to stand out when many people are pressing around you. Here, it proves essential to maintain a minimum distance in order to prevent any confusion. This is much easier in a seated position, where various stratagems will allow the dominant figure to remain the focal point. Besides, it is important to understand that relying on others is a double-­edged sword, since everything depends on the collective image being projected. The exceptional success of some family members will reflect on its greatness, but any failure or abuse, can seriously damage its reputation (particularly in cultures obsessed with a holistic conception of honour). When a queen’s ladies-in-waiting were guilty of misconduct or did not behave appropriately, the sovereign felt personally outraged, in so far as they were supposed to reflect her majesty. Similarly, upstarts who manage to infiltrate glittering circles will frequently be seen as putting a strain on a shared façade. Last but not least, the quality of service provided by the servants who are relied upon may well contribute to heighten or to tarnish the reputation of a house. Taking entourages into consideration tends to make social judgments more complicated, in that they broaden the scope of appraisal. ‘Vicarious display’, in other words ‘distinction by proxy’, is meant to corroborate, and ideally to strengthen, standing, but in no way to undermine it.3 This implies that the said entourages, whatever their type and merits, effectively underline the eminence of the central actors, and support their quest for symbolic superiority. Moreover, within cultural environments where excessively showing off is frowned upon, these auxiliaries or peers

  Vicarious Display 

177

may advantageously perform a celebratory task intended for third parties, while the required modesty of the protagonists is respected. This part contains five chapters. The first one concerns the staging of the family, of wives and children especially, but also the display of attractive female (and possibly male) companions, whose physical beauty, finery, and sophistication are liable to reinforce the ascendancy of those who exhibit them. The second will be about the emblematic dimensions of being seen with prominent members of society, beyond usual perspectives in terms of accumulation of useful connections. This will lead us to look particularly at the universes of salons, clubs and ‘social life’. I will then explore the contributions that servants can provide, from the most functional to the most symbolic. The next chapter will be on art patronage. Its goal is to revisit, from a comparative standpoint, the discussions about the relationships between elites and craftsmen or artists able to produce prestigious works for them. I will also question the modalities of flattering written or visual representations. Finally, social distinction via animals happens to be a far from negligible field of investigation. This is why I will devote some pages to it, for example on the homology between breed improvement and aristocratic mentalities, or on the display of value-adding accessories likely to heighten the overall impression of elegance.

Notes 1. M. Meiss-Even, Les Guise et leur paraître, Rennes/Tours: Presses universitaires de Rennes/Presses universitaires François-Rabelais, 2013, pp. 108 ff. 2. It is principally to Veblen that we owe consideration of the subject. 3. We have illustrations of the inability to overcome the shame resulting from the terrible attitude of subordinates. I have notably in mind the story of an aristocratic officer who committed suicide after feeling betrayed by the dishonourable actions of his troops.

11 Relatives and Glamorous (Fe)male Company

A good way to initiate reflection on ‘distinction by proxy’ is to examine the contributions of spouses and children standing by predominant members of society. This chapter brings together considerations on relatives, as well as on those close friends whose comeliness suggests sensual pleasures and can be part of the signs by which eminence is manifested. When such persons additionally display prestige goods, or allow embodied expressions of superiority to shine through (in their sparkling conversation, for example), they are prone to support an elitist image. Here again, however, a comparative approach helps to highlight quite different scenarios and to shake off the impression that these realities are self-evident.

Family Dimensions of Social Distinction Depending on whether we are dealing with holistic or individualistic environments, the notion of family may refer to units of extremely different size. Anthropology and sociology have identified many types: extended, nuclear, based on polygamy or monogamy, and more fundamentally on dissimilar kinship systems, alliance patterns, or © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 J.-P. Daloz, Expressions of High Status, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3_11

179

180 

J.-P. Daloz

representations of consanguinity. With regard to extended configurations, I have frequently noted (in Nigeria and China, among other places) a strong desire to bask in the reflected glory of successful persons who will readily be referred to as ‘brothers’, ‘sisters’, ‘uncles’, or ‘aunties’, without it being very clear whether this tie is genuine or symbolic. In any case, we are confronted with a quest for distinction based on vicarious display (from the bottom upward). The family must also be apprehended in a longue durée perspective and, for what interests us here, in relation to the possible ‘ascendancy of ancestors’. Various themes are worthy of attention. I am thinking in particular of the appropriation of the fame of more or less mythical forefathers, whose virtues and qualities are supposed to be transmitted from generation to generation. Ethnological and historical monographs are full of descriptions along these lines. For example, in Polynesia, some clans contend that they have been the very first to land on such and such an island, whence results a right of precedence (cf. Chap. 17) endlessly claimed. In pre-classical Greece, it was apparently usual to recite the list of one’s prestigious ancestors in order to impress others. Reading the Iliad, one assumes that this was essential before confrontations, heroes being evaluated according to their filiation. Priding oneself on renowned precursors (sometimes believed to be the offspring of the union between a god and a mortal) was meant to intimidate one’s opponent during a kind of preliminary verbal jousting. Within this culture, the value of the warriors present thus presumably depended on that of their forebears.1 Medieval aristocratic ideology was to move in the same direction, with the great families striving to establish their status by invoking the seniority of their lineage and the importance of predecessors who had allegedly played a decisive role in battle or in the service of a suzerain. Of course, this must be related to the cult of ancestors as a source of legitimacy and to the major function that burials can fulfil in this respect (Chap. 6). Moreover, one should not neglect the contribution of scholars meant to celebrate a family’s records, carrying out erudite research to support its claims. As early as antiquity, Pindar was careful to name as many members of his clients’ paternal and maternal sides as possible. In cultural settings that attached a lot of importance to this type of social recognition, one can easily imagine the trouble that was sometimes

11  Relatives and Glamorous (Fe)male Company 

181

taken in trying to trace impressive forerunners, inventing stories if necessary. Books relating brave deeds, but also regularly updated family trees and heraldry (with its degrees of noble lineage referring to alliances and territories) allowed elites to build up their history in a cumulative way. Later, this would be the function of the portrait gallery, whose aim was to highlight dynastic continuity, possibly having pictures made of distant precursors whose appearance no one remembered—assuming they had really existed. If the order of the paintings was self-evident, their size and their respective emphasis could be a good indicator of the aspiration to follow in the footsteps of one’s predecessors, or to outdo them. More generally, the question arises as to what takes precedence between reverence for the past, concern for the present, and care for the descendants expected to sustain the family’s reputation among the elite. There are cases where expenditure is deliberately limited in order to provide sufficiently for the next generation, especially the main heir. There are others where people ruin themselves to honour ancestors, acquiring ornaments intended for them and placed in their tombs. In Rome, to pride oneself of famous ancestors was customary, but a certain distance vis-à-vis this type of distinction could already be detected (Juvenal, for example, rather seemed to favour personal achievements). Anthropologically speaking, this poses yet another problem. Is reproduction based on well-­ institutionalised rules (primogeniture, in particular) or are the most promising children, best able to maintain a dominant position pragmatically given preference. In modern settings, social climbing can be extremely rapid and it appears that the glorification of the founding ancestor (who might often go back only a few decades) is not necessarily very crucial. However, it is most important to make a first name for oneself and ‘to be distinguished within the distinguished family’.2 This being said, grand narratives are likely to be disrupted by the vicissitudes of life, notably the vagaries of matrimonial alliances. In many contexts, marriages at the top do represent one of the major modalities through which the affirmation and consolidation of a superior rank is expressed. Intra-elite unions were for a long time synonymous with well-­ planned exchanges and useful partnership. Furthermore, the ability to provide a husband or wife of noble lineage to one’s children critically contributed to the social recognition of their descendants. Of course, one

182 

J.-P. Daloz

must take all sorts of contradictory conventions into consideration here. One thinks of the practice of the dowry as opposed to high payments or returns in kind to the young woman’s family, but also questions of residence (virilocal or matrilocal), for instance. It is important to grasp all the complexities of what is at stake and to avoid hasty interpretations. The custom of the dowry may seem very unbalanced at first glance, with the father giving both his daughter and money or property. Nevertheless, it must be taken into account that an alliance with an illustrious and powerful family was often profitable in the end. Besides, it could be agreed that the wife would keep part of the dowry, including clothes, jewellery and crockery representing a significant proportion of it. It also happened that widows recovered not only their outlay, but the possessions of their ex-husband as well. In fact, it can be estimated that, at least in the case of families with children of both sexes, this kind of system was roughly counterbalanced. The boys collected the dowries of the girls they wedded, compensating for what had to be paid for the marriage of their sisters. Moreover, under the Ancien Régime in France, for example, many provisions could be negotiated and stipulated in ad hoc contracts.3 Beyond such aspects, what should be mainly of interest for us to explore here is how wives are treated and, above all, how they contribute to the expression of social distinction. On this subject, one must cite Veblen, who developed a whole theory (applicable, according to him, from the captive of ‘barbaric’ times to the housewife of his era) concerning the instrumentalisation of spouses, reduced to the rank of ‘trophy’ and supposed to reflect the status of their husband. Feminist authors, who consider the American-Norwegian social theorist as a true precursor, were to develop his thesis of the reification of women, lastingly doomed to be mere accessories in the patriarchal quest for superiority. There is, however, a counter-discourse of the same orientation, that seeks to challenge such a conception of wives essentially functioning as foils. It insists instead on the crucial role that society women may have played in forging a distinguished image, particularly as promulgators of refined manners or ambassadors of high culture.4 Once again, it is necessary to move away from the generalising views of the normative literature and to be conscious of the existence of very different configurations, as well as of considerable changes in mentalities.

11  Relatives and Glamorous (Fe)male Company 

183

There are huge divides between contexts where arranged marriages are the rule and not subject to discussion; others where young women driven by a vision of romantic love feel justified in expressing their preferences, but remain under close surveillance, with limited scope for encounters outside their exclusive milieu; and, say, the contemporary world of Internet dating sites with their unprecedented modalities of self-presentation. The same applies to women’s contribution to the enhancement of the family image. In contrast with Veblen’s clear-cut vision, one may refer to the subtle descriptions of Edith Wharton, who was perfectly familiar with the elite world of the ‘Gilded Age’. If the American novelist sometimes corroborates analyses in terms of commodification of wives for the purposes of social competition, she also describes how the latter could undermine the status of their husbands, notably by their excessive spending.5 It goes without saying that I do not wish to reject altogether interpretations that emphasise the ostentatious use of women, which is often found.6 However, it is not possible to reduce everything to this scenario. It is more fruitful, in my view, to try to identify what matters in practice: for example, being an outstanding hostess or demonstrating effective authority over a multitude of servants. I equally have in mind those polygamous systems where the internal hierarchy (between first, second, third and fourth wives) is likely to have symbolic dimensions, or the extravagant behaviour of spouses of parvenus refusing to stoop to carrying anything or even, in the past, to blow out a candle. From experience, it is particularly instructive to observe the staging of family events, including of course the wedding ceremony itself. It may prove most respectful of tradition or play the card of distinctive innovation,7 but also emphasise quantitative (up to tens of thousands of people in India) or qualitative distinction (with only a few hyper-selected guests), for instance. All sorts of occasions can be a pretext for festivities and for inviting relatives, friends, colleagues and neighbours: such as births (requiring the presentation of an extremely expensive ‘push present’ to the mother in wealthy American families), birthdays, various anniversaries, coming of age, children going off to university, graduation, promotions, moving into a new house, or recovery from illness. In Nigeria, I noticed that the acquisition of an extra car, the visit of a somewhat

184 

J.-P. Daloz

important parent or a return from a trip could give rise to celebrations at a certain social level. These were usually filmed and then broadcast to those who did not attend. Even divorce may be the subject of a final instrumentalisation of opulence (in the United States, notably), with spectacular ‘separation gifts’ being awarded, with an expectation of maximum publicity. The mention of birthdays leads me to consider the very significant role that children are sometimes led to play in strategies of distinction. At the outset, it is worth recalling the extent to which the relationship with them depends on cultural norms. Today’s Western civilisation tends to idolise children, just as others remain obsessed with their ancestors. Without endorsing Philippe Ariès’s famous (and much-criticised) thesis according to which there was hardly any awareness of a childlike specificity until the post-medieval period, it is important to be conscious of major differences. While pride in one’s offspring and great hopes for its future are commonplace, attitudes in both aristocratic and upper-­middle-­ class circles over the centuries have been highly variable. They range from the harshest of upbringings, with the aim of turning them into robust warriors or hardened entrepreneurs, to protected, pampered and spoiled childhoods; from assiduous parental presence to relative disinterest and the handing over of educational tasks to a governess, preceptors, or strict boarding schools; from the inculcation of an unshakeable sense of superiority to that of a certain humility, requiring, for example, that children use the back stairs. Youths, like all members of the entourage supposedly involved in distinctive practices, are prone to either enhance or undermine status. Perhaps even more than others performing supporting roles, however, they do raise fears. Many families are particularly anxious about gross misbehaviour in front of guests, likely to affect their image. The issue here is to appear ‘well-mannered’, whatever that means in terms of prescriptions. Impeccable behaviour will, of course, be the result of a ‘good education’. In the Victorian era, it could also be the result of wearing light-coloured, very loose or very tight clothes meant to restrict movement and compatible only with a limited number of outdoor activities (such as croquet). This kind of perfect attitude was all the more essential when the whole group was represented in portraits. Looking at

11  Relatives and Glamorous (Fe)male Company 

185

eighteenth-­century British paintings, I am struck by the fact that children appear to be dressed even more formally than their parents, although what they wear is often a miniature version of the adults’ attire. In ancient times (but if it may still be relevant nowadays) a sub-theme worthy of attention is that of the crown princes. In France, for example, the Dauphin has been depicted with a small sceptre on a cushion. We are dealing, remarkably enough, with similar regalia underlining the dynastic continuity, but with a reduced size symbolising a junior position.8 A superb case regarding heir apparent matters is that of Henry VIII’s daughters. Mary (whose mother was Catherine of Aragon) and Elizabeth (Ann Boleyn’s child) have both enjoyed a household with their own retinue, as long as they were presumed to inherit the throne in the absence of a male descendant. The vagaries of the situation (i.e. the repudiation of the queen, the beheading of the favourite, the respective positioning of the sovereign, of parliament, of the Church of England, of the pope) made their status extremely uncertain. The fascinating feature for what concerns us here is the struggle based on vicarious display and prestige goods between the two half-sisters. Ann Boleyn went to great lengths to ensure not only that Elizabeth was better dressed, had nicer furniture, but also more servants for legitimisation purposes.9 A slightly different illustration is that of the sons of Archduke Ferdinand II of Tyrol, who had a morganatic marriage with a young woman from the rich bourgeoisie. His two boys were thus not eligible for the Habsburg crown, but they were endowed with majestic armour in no way inferior to that of young princes. This was a way of symbolically rehabilitating them despite their non-aristocratic status. Today, many wealthy parents do not hesitate to show off their social pre-eminence through the high-end goods displayed by their children. There is a whole market segment to cater for this demand, from luxury clothing boutiques offering half sizes to very pricey and ostentatious toy shops. Quite frequently, it is the young people who, having to compete with their peers, encourage expenditure. Besides, it is well known that some major brands recruit teenagers as consultants. There are even families who use clothing advisors specialising in children’s fashion. Finally, we should not forget that the sons and daughters of millionaires (the

186 

J.-P. Daloz

so-­called ‘aristokids’ in North America) often have very high purchasing power themselves. To come back to incorporated signs, beyond manners alone, particularly spectacular is the fact that some parents are ready to pay a fortune in order to give their descendants the best education, not only at school but also in the arts and music, and this from kindergarten on. In Japan, South Korea or New York city, they will do everything possible to ensure that their toddlers attend the leading private schools. This is far from always being exclusively a question of money, as psychological criteria can be taken into account, not to mention the merciless entrance tests. These prove to be a major source of anxiety for mothers who are not averse to enrolling their little ones in ‘baby groups’ that are supposed to increase their chances of admission to top establishments. In Taipei, I had the opportunity to observe the astonishing level of English that was expected from three-year-olds (called upon to prepare their end-of-term ‘speech’ in front of the whole school and the parents), even though it is usually not their mother tongue. What seems to be at stake here certainly is social reproduction and the desire to make sure that one’s descendants are well equipped to face a very competitive world, but also distinction. Incidentally, children’s success is an excellent topic of conversation, and it is striking to see how frequently the fact of having been accepted in such and such a school, of promoted to the next grade, can be mentioned with pride. Needless to say, this secondary socialisation will often lean on the education provided at home by parents or tutors. One thinks of the importance that has been given to reading aloud before going to bed, a practice that was readily held to be a key element of bourgeois culture in Great Britain, France and Germany. The aim was to work on pronunciation, perfect tone, and to introduce the children to the classics of children’s literature.10 However, we have evidence that this training exercise was also carried out in aristocratic families, even if it was generally entrusted to the good care of a governess. In a very different domain, still relating to embodied signs of distinction, regular visits to specialised, top-of-the-line hairdressers with over-equipped salons, including armchairs of all sizes equipped with video screens, are sometimes de rigueur. One comes across

11  Relatives and Glamorous (Fe)male Company 

187

American little girls, in particular, who sport incredibly sophisticated hairstyles. Let me add that some of the aspects that will be dealt with in the following chapters have their equivalents for children. I am thinking for instance of some parties that, in the past, could reach astonishing levels of splendour.11 These days, it seems that teenagers’ get-togethers are much more dissolute. In California, there is a well-known competition in this respect with a view to decide who has organised the ‘craziest’ bash with photos posted on social networks. There are also clubs that have afternoons dedicated to their members’ offspring (with, for example, a golf tournament and dessert tasting). The same is true of some very famous restaurants which organise spectacular afternoon teas for children.12

Significant Companions I now come to my second theme, that of ‘glamorous (fe)male company’. Given the primordial importance of sexuality in human life, to be seen with highly desirable women (or men) is far from being negligible in terms of distinction. This will be even more obvious if other signifiers reinforce an image of success. The expression ‘to go out with somebody’, which is used euphemistically to refer to a relationship in several languages, is a good way to convey what may be at stake: that is, showing up together and making the best use of such an association. When the lawful husband or wife is concerned, interpretations can be made along the aforementioned lines of reasoning regarding family dimensions of distinction. However, many people obviously have designs on fine-looking companions beyond the confines of marriage. This necessarily leads to considerations on social position in relation to sexuality. Some individuals may prove more attractive than others because of their fame, their resources, their dominant status, etc. In this respect, when Henry Kissinger states that ‘power is a great aphrodisiac’, it must be understood from two angles, I think: the possible feeling of omnipotence of actors at the top when it comes to make conquests, but conceivably strong attractions from the bottom up as well.

188 

J.-P. Daloz

The question of ‘who ends up with whom’ is one of those subjects about which everyone feels justified in expressing an opinion. It may be based on personal experience, that of acquaintances and, quite frequently, examples from works of fiction, knowing that this has been an ever-­ present topic for centuries. It is also an area of analysis that has given rise to surprising generalisations in the scholarly literature, so often eager to provide grand systematic explanations. However, it should be emphasised that, far from being the same old story repeated over and over again, configurations appear to be widely divergent. For instance, against Lévi-­ Strauss’s thesis that the prohibition of incest is universal, not only is it easy to furnish counter-examples (in Pharaonic Egypt, Hellenistic Greece, Polynesia or sub-Saharan Africa), but it is significant to underline that, for certain dynasties, it was indeed a good way of distinguishing themselves, quite often with reference to a local mythology not devoid of incestuous gods. The comparative study of sexual behaviour, of what is acceptable, what is repulsive or unthinkable, can only lead to extreme relativism. To take illustrations that are deliberately at odds with contemporary Western canons, I could mention the Manchu mother who, out of affection, is meant to kiss her little boy on the genitals but never on the cheeks; the attitude of former Polynesian teenagers who made sure that their bride attracted and satisfied many young men; or regular sexual intercourse between young children of a Namibian tribe (including brothers and sisters), which is deemed harmless in so far as there is no ejaculation and the girls are not yet fertile.13 The same is true when we consider the evolution of mentalities over the long run as well as fundamental reversals. Thus, rape went from being an almost banal phenomenon in certain places, hardly deserving any attention, to the status of a very serious crime.14 Paedophilia has now become the ultimate horror, while having been tolerated in the post-1968 context, in the name of ‘sexual liberation’. If we bring social levels into the picture, conclusions cannot fail to be just as relativistic. For example, great promiscuity may have been the norm at the bottom of society while virtuous behaviour was imposed at the top, but the reverse can equally be found.15 Sexual relations with slaves (in ancient times or in the plantations of the southern United States) were either commonplace, as they usually were with the colonised

11  Relatives and Glamorous (Fe)male Company 

189

(think of the conquistadors, the Portuguese), or hardly acceptable. We sometimes observe a certain indulgence at the pre-marital stage,16 or a fixation with girls’ virginity. A double standard of sexual morality might prevail (freedom for men, strict intransigence with regard to women, obviously because of sensitive paternity issues), but one also witnesses a great deal of broad-mindedness in some societies. I will not dwell on these contrasts, as significant as they may be. However, it is relevant to focus on cultural cleavages that are clearly linked to distinctive codes. The first concerns the recurrent issue of visibility. Obtaining the favours of the most coveted woman or multiplying sexual conquests for ostentatious purposes finds its logical extension in a certain amount of publicity: in restaurants, at receptions, and more generally in all those places where one’s attractive companion will not go unnoticed. When I was doing research on Nigerian elites, I noted the importance of showing off a new acquaintance at the club every weekend. Nevertheless, there are many environments in which distinction on the contrary means concealment. Here, we come across the imaginary of cloistered polygamy, of the gynaeceum or the harem, which is no less powerful in terms of representations related to high status. At an intermediate level, semi-­ reclusion, possibly supplemented by the convention of the veil or that of the chaperone, when one has to go outside the private sphere, may contribute to social distinction. As far as the veil is concerned, it must be emphasised that it has been perceived quite differently from one culture to the next. Most of them saw it as a guarantee of modesty, a signal of closure to external male concupiscence. However, in some societies, one feared above all anything that conceals (which could also apply to hoods and masks) and tolerated the veil only in very bad weather or at funeral. Assuming that showing oneself in public with women is acceptable, the question arises as to whether it is only when accompanied by lawful wives (who could be invited to dinners, for example, as early as Roman antiquity), or whether flaunting extramarital relationships is permissible, expected and indeed likely to support a quest for distinction. There are contexts in which the latter attitude will be an instant source of discredit and may even lead to exile.17 There are others where it is commonplace, as long as it remains discreet and not overly boastful, which is contradictory to a self-glorifying purpose. Finally, there are those where not only

190 

J.-P. Daloz

will there be total impunity, but where the multiplication and notoriety of love affairs will be awaited, possibly entailing extravagant costs. The illustrations are legion. Werner Sombart has provided analyses of the role of enticing femininity in relation to the rise of luxury in court societies.18 Rulers (who in most cases had a wife imposed on them for political reasons) usually collected favourites, as did the main courtiers. Here, the ability to appear with the most sought-after ladies, and even to lure them away from a rival, was part of a symbolic struggle within the framework of an intra-­ elite game that was clear to all. The great lords were masters in the art of using their status to attract the prettiest women, who in turn tried to benefit as much as possible from the relationship. In this type of configuration, a king, prince or duke would shower his current companion with gifts (including castles at times) and would not miss an opportunity to show her off, both of them attracting all the attention. Of course, while some courtesans were able to use sexuality in this way to secure a dominant position, most of them did not gain much from it. Above all, they were at the mercy of constant intrigue and sudden disgrace. As far as the gentlemen were concerned, the paradoxical condition of the ‘magnificent cuckold’ deserves mention. It was understood that a husband should not be offended by the affair between his wife and the sovereign, and could even take advantage of it (‘Sharing with Jupiter is not at all dishonourable’, wrote Molière in his play Amphitryon). A somewhat different scenario, described in so many eighteenth-­ century licentious novels, sees distinction resting on the ability to seduce, to make it known, and then to promptly abandon one’s conquest. What seems to matter then is not so much the pleasure of the adventure as the vanity of success, as well as the pride of not being at the mercy of sentiments. A similar theme in the literature of this period is that of the ‘fashionable man’, referring to someone who builds up a reputation as an exceptional lover and whom the women of the elite are expected to fight over. The female counterpart exists. One thinks of those ladies who moved from salon to salon every evening, boasting of countless affairs. Madame de Genlis devoted a (rather satirical) text to such creatures. It is indeed questionable to what extent the available fictions represent a reliable source, reflecting the mores of the time, or border on caricature.19 In

11  Relatives and Glamorous (Fe)male Company 

191

any case, from a comparative perspective, it is important to understand whether the fact of having been in many beds and on very intimate terms with the great, undermines your status or generates a kind of aura. In ancient Greece, for example, the ex-wife of a deceased member of the elite did not lose any matrimonial value, but won renown and was highly rated.20 Quite frequently, it proves most enlightening to reason from both the male and female points of view. If for the man, the ambition is to distinguish himself from less well-off rivals, competition is also likely to play a major role between women who will, more often than not, keep comparing themselves (as regards physical looks and adornment). One should transcend simplistic interpretations according to which the latter must systematically be seen as mere ornamental dolls serving ‘male pride’. If we consider, for example, the queens of the demi-monde of mid-nineteenth-­ century France, at a time when parading around with a mistress was almost compulsory in upper circles, it is obvious that dressing sumptuously, being looked after, and enjoying a large apartment in one of the beautiful neighbourhoods of Paris were not ends in themselves but investments. It meant that men were willing to pay a lot of money for these lovers, and therefore that the services they provided were highly satisfactory. Their sophisticated attire could certainly contribute to exalt the image of their protector, but it was also a form of advertising, with the aim of attracting the attention of other potential admirers. Of course, at the time, one could become infatuated with a coquettish working girl or a ballet dancer, which raises a most relevant question. Is dating someone of much lower status and being seen with her likely to undermine one’s own? From a social distinction perspective, might youth and charm supersede all other considerations, or does upper-class membership remain imperative? One cannot help thinking of contemporary Russian oligarchs who, apart from having wives half their age, frequently surround themselves with gorgeous teenage girls. This equally applies to many (non-Western) countries. We are dealing with a fairly standard sociological theme here: that of spouse selection, in connection with expectations determined by social class as well as concrete opportunities of encounter. However, it is crucial not to have an excessively monodisciplinary approach and to understand

192 

J.-P. Daloz

that what is at stake (often to be experienced in terms of ‘love’ within individualistic societies where the selection of a partner is relatively open) is also biological. It involves purely physiological and hormonal reactions, the ins and outs of which scientists are still trying to understand. We should not underestimate psychological elements either, notably the narcissistic satisfaction of having been chosen or accepted by someone else and to be seen in the eyes of others as a couple. Finally, let us not forget cultural aspects likely to influence the value and the merits found in the chosen one. These cannot be purely reduced to factors of social position, but partake of much broader representations regarding what is desirable, suitable (not forgetting what is utterly unacceptable).21 Looking at ‘matches’ that are clearly out of sync (judging by status, age or beauty, whatever the local modalities of appreciation), many people will be inclined to resort to ready-made interpretations based on common sense. Quite often, the conclusion will be that men and women mobilise their assets and resources to the best of their ability to obtain what might seem difficult to achieve in view of their condition. Nevertheless, as soon as we consider some contextually relevant details examined in monographic studies, we get a sense of the diversity of patterns at play. The dream of the newcomer in the harem, confronted with hundreds of competitors, was to attract the attention of the master, to conceive a child with him and to see her status change; that of the Chinese courtesan of yesteryear was to attain the rank of recognised concubine of a member of the elite, which meant to appear sufficiently pretty and sophisticated so as not to belittle him in the eyes of his peers.22 The resounding scandal caused by Madame du Barry was not that Louis XV chose a quasi-prostitute as his mistress, but that a person of commoner origin could be officially presented at the court of Versailles. Gorda Bormann urged her husband Martin, the influential adviser to the Nazi party, to have sexual intercourse with ‘Aryan’ concubines, having the future of the race in mind. Naturally, Hitler had no problem with that. I have used the term ‘glamorous female company’ for convenience to encompass what is discussed here, as once again it proves impossible to find a formulation that is entirely satisfactory. However, in many environments it would be clearly inappropriate. From a comparative point of view, it can be observed that eminent status is often expressed by the

11  Relatives and Glamorous (Fe)male Company 

193

presence of ostensibly submissive and silent creatures, while displaying a ‘macho’ behaviour. On the other hand, there are contexts in which a very brilliant, witty and refined female companion will be particularly appreciated, calling for a great deal of consideration. I refer to my discussion above (Chap. 9) on the ambiguities of gallantry. I should add that the alternatives which have been highlighted here have tended to be presented from a rather masculine and heterosexual perspective, as this is what has largely prevailed historically. It goes without saying that same-sex attraction has been having its place, and there is also no shortage of examples of women of authority indulging in reverse, albeit similar, licentiousness. Without going back to Messalina, one thinks, for instance, of the famous case of Catherine II of Russia or of Napoleon’s sisters (Elisa and Pauline) collecting men. This suggests that (political or social) power over others is what matters first and foremost— which does not exclude the fact that the dominant persons might be subjected to blackmail.23

Notes 1. Consequently, the valour of very young individuals with a distinguished heritage was not to be underestimated. See A. Duplouy, Le prestige des élites, op.  cit. (in particular, the chapter entitled ‘Énoncer une ascendance’). 2. Concerning the United States, cf. G.E. Marcus, ‘The Deep Legacies of Dynastic Subjectivity: The Resonances of a Famous Family Identity in Private and Public Spheres’, in J. de Pina-Cabral, & A.P. de Lima (eds), Elites: Choice, Leadership and Succession, Oxford: Berg, 2000. 3. It was, of course, quite a different matter for couples with exclusively female offspring, many a girl being sent to a convent. There are, however, cultures where having several daughters made it possible to weave a whole network of alliances and to secure loyalties in the long run (including by attributing them to vassals). This was particularly important when the descendants were considered as shared, which was the case in several civilisations of the ancient Middle East. 4. See B.G. Smith, Ladies of the Leisure Class: The Bourgeoises of Northern France in the Nineteenth Century, Princeton: Princeton UP, 1981.

194 

J.-P. Daloz

5. For a similar observation about Britain around the same time, see E. Rappaport, Shopping for Pleasure: Women in the Making of London’s West End, Princeton: Princeton UP, 2000 (Chap. 3). 6. See, among others, V.L. Garver, Women and Aristocratic Culture in the Carolingian World, Ithaca: Cornell UP, 2009. In some Renaissance courts, it was arranged that, as soon as they arrived, prestigious guests would bump into the most attractive ladies, beautifully dressed (seemingly by chance), in order to impress them from the outset. 7. See M. Tremblay, Le mariage dans la vallée du Haut-Richelieu au XXe siècle. Ritualité et distinction sociale, Sainte-Foy: Les Presses de l’université Laval, 2001. 8. R. Sabatier, Le prince et les arts. Stratégies figuratives de la monarchie française de la Renaissance aux Lumières, Seyssel: Champ Vallon, 2010, p. 334. 9. J.L. McIntosh, From Heads of Households to Heads of State: The Preaccession Households of Mary and Elisabeth Tudor, 1516–1558, New  York: Columbia UP, 2009 (see the chapter entitled ‘The politics of ostentation’). 10. On the other hand, alongside cases of upward mobility, there are awkward episodes of intergenerational dissonance, where parents tend to diminish the image of their children through their speech, or vice versa. This is a situation commonly described in nineteenth-century novels, for example in T. Hardy’s The Mayor of Casterbridge. 11. In his memoirs, N. Sombart recalls one given by the French Embassy in Berlin, with servants in powdered wigs, superb plates and wrapped gifts, under the watchful eye of the governesses. Chroniques d’une jeunesse berlinoise, op. cit., p. 105. 12. It is interesting to note that some establishments wish to attract a female clientele, possibly accompanied by children, while others, favouring business meals, pride themselves on prohibiting the presence of youngsters. 13. Cf. J.R. Clarke, Looking at Lovemaking: Constructions of Sexuality in Roman Art 100 B.C. –A.D. 250, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998; I. Goldman, Ancient Polynesian Society, Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1970; Ph. Talavera, Challenging the Namibian Perception of Sexuality, Windhoek: Gambsberg/Macmillan, 2002. 14. G. Vigarello, Histoire du viol, Paris: Le Seuil, 1998. 15. See M.W.  Helms, Ancient Panama: Chiefs in Search of Power, Austin: University of Texas Press, 1979, p. 24.

11  Relatives and Glamorous (Fe)male Company 

195

16. Not without arrangements, of course. Cf. the convention of the amiga in medieval Spain, according to which cohabitation with a pretty maid could be organised, with a view to provide a legally regulated response to late marriages. The relationship officially ended at the time of the nuptials, when the ‘friend’ received payment but had to stop seeing her lover immediately, incurring the risk of being considered an adulteress henceforth. 17. Particularly in the case of ladies of the high aristocracy. A proclaimed affair would inevitably cause a scandal and could lead to banishment from the social scene, as happened more than once in eighteenth-­century England. 18. Luxury and Capitalism, Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1967 [1913]. 19. Cf. C.H. Crowston, Credit, Fashion, Sex: Economies of Regard in Old Regime France, Durham: Duke UP, 2013. 20. This echoes the logic of property belonging to famous predecessors. In this sense, see A. Duplouy, Le prestige des élites, op. cit. p. 87. 21. Suffice it to compare, for example, Ovid’s The Art of Love (a true manual of seduction) with the logic of medieval courtly love (in which self-­ constraint and unfulfilled desire are supposed to favour the quest for perfection) and what transpires in the novels of the Romantic era or in today’s fiction. 22. See respectively contributions in M.S.  Gordon & K.A.  Hayn (eds), Concubines and Courtesans: Women and Slavery in Islamic History, Oxford: Oxford UP, 2017; D.  Berg & C. Starr (eds), The Quest for Gentility in China, op. cit. It is quite remarkable to see that a few specialists do not hesitate to attack the ahistorical generalisations of contemporary feminist authors (always looking for precedents, i.e for those instances when progressive ideals would have ‘begun to emerge’), while offering analyses that endeavour to capture in some depth the cultural representations of the particular context they study. 23. In the perspective of the #MeToo movement, this kind of consideration obviously takes on a new resonance, but we should not forget Simmel’s classic analyses of flirtation and the complex game of appearing desirable while remaining quite difficult to approach (Georg Simmel On Women, Sexuality and Love, edited by G. Oakes, New Haven: Yale UP, 1984 [1909]).

12 Flaunting Connections

Dominant actors usually have a very active social life. It is important for them to keep in touch with influential peers and to strategically cultivate contacts liable to be mobilised sooner or later. This kind of activity, most crucial in many sectors, can take up a huge amount of time. It is a matter of receiving, being received, attending all sorts of events, but also of belonging to circles, clubs, and so forth. The conventional way of looking at this is to reason in terms of networking with a view to exchange favours, or at least to have access to useful information. In terms of distinction, however, it is essential to look beyond such instrumental dimensions and to consider the relationships with prominent men and women in a more symbolic perspective. This is why it is appropriate to focus on the logics of display on the one hand, and on institutions or practices that are particularly conducive to the staging of high-profile connections on the other.

Display The social level of those with whom one associates is generally understood by sociologists to be a good indicator of one’s own standing.1 This can lead to avoiding any business with individuals who might belittle © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 J.-P. Daloz, Expressions of High Status, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3_12

197

198 

J.-P. Daloz

you. On their side, ordinary people will happily talk about the fact that they have had the opportunity to meet such and such a personality. This is indeed an omnipresent aspect of the distinctive quest ‘by proxy’, possibly involving a certain amount of exaggeration. In France, under the Ancien Régime, there was already a strong distrust of those who boasted of their familiarity with high-ranking members of the court, even though they had only glimpsed the anterooms of their residences, obviously enough. In the United States, when talking at parties, it is striking how quickly people check to see who you are acquainted with in order to determine where you stand. There is also evidence that being observed speaking to a renowned person can suddenly change the attitude of individuals who had never said a word to you before.2 From the point of view of a subordinate, being associated with somebody more important than him or her can prove very profitable in terms of image. As I carried research on such issues, an unexpected theme that emerged has to do with juxtapositions. Collecting medals representing famous men, or busts of the ‘twelve Caesars’ (those described by Suetonius), used to be common practice for some elites. When a representation of the master of the house was added, however, the aspiration to be tied to illustrious predecessors and part of a series inviting the visitor to make comparisons, was implied. Similarly, when a lord displayed a portrait of the king and his own in the great hall side by side, was it a question of expressing loyalty or of self-promotion by placing himself almost on the same level? Architect Johann Bernhard Fischer von Erlach, the originator of famous baroque buildings in Vienna, designed a magnificent work for the Holy Roman Emperor Charles VI, representing the most beautiful palaces in the world (including Siam). Significantly, the second volume concludes with a reproduction of the two favourite Austrian buildings of the sovereign.3 This comparison with other monarchs and their own grandiose monuments clearly indicates that the aim was to be associated with what contributed to extoll glory and wealth elsewhere. The pride of owning objects that used to belong to very distinguished predecessors, of having neighbours in Surrey or in Cape Ferrat, who are widely talked about, is part of the same logic. However, in many contexts, the prevailing pattern appears to be vertical instead of horizontal. It is appropriate to show off with followers who

12  Flaunting Connections 

199

do not share your social rank, but who demonstrate your importance and your attractiveness. This is a common configuration in clientelistic systems. Prestige here seems to be much more linked to the capacity to appeal to a large number of supporters than to exclusively maintain relationships within the upper echelons. Spectacular parties highlighting redistribution, attended by all those who support you are symbolically decisive, especially with respect to rival leaders. The generosity of the ‘boss’ and the solidarity of the entire group are put on display. In the feudal, pyramidal organisations of the past, as in the factional enterprises of Asia, Africa or Latin America today, the constitution of a large entourage of dependants is a crucial element of elite standing. There are, on the contrary, cases where distinction is above all a matter of compartmentalisation and exclusion, in so far as the honour of those who claim a superior status is achieved through social closure (as Max Weber has analysed so well4). Under the Ancien Régime in France, this logic prevailed. You could, of course, invite famous theatre companies to your castle as entertainers, but there was no doubt concerning their subordinate position. However, the weight of rigid hierarchies sometimes ended up feeling tedious. Louis XIV’s escapes to Marly or MarieAntoinette’s Petit Trianon can be seen in this light. Only the king’s or queen’s current favourites had access to such retreats, where one did not worry too much about the rules of precedence depending on formal rank. During the nineteenth century, in certain European capitals, a greater openness was to be observed. This was quite characteristic of societal changes involving the rise of new elites. Thus, for example, what was called ‘Le Tout-Paris’ took shape, bringing together not only nobles and rich bourgeois, but also anyone who was in the news. In London or Berlin, the high aristocracy similarly began to include in its circles business tycoons, major figures of the stage, well-known painters, writers, fashionable musicians, and even scientists who had achieved some fame through their discoveries.5 This brings us to the extreme case of the United States, where elites seem to be eager to welcome all sorts of celebrities, whatever their field (including sports and show business). The prejudices against the inferior remain, but these newcomers are no longer considered as such.

200 

J.-P. Daloz

Unprecedented intermixture can lead to fairly embarrassing situations, though. To echo what was discussed in Chap. 5, seating arrangements may be tricky when personalities from various sectors are suddenly mingled and prove particularly touchy. Attempts to assemble guests from very different backgrounds might indeed turn into a fiasco.6 The mistress of the house sometimes concluded that it was better to organise several dinners in a row than to be confronted with insoluble questions of precedence and problematic proximity of eminent people with profiles quite difficult to reconcile. In some contexts, members of the high nobility ended up being asked for purely ‘decorative’ reasons, while persons embodying new forms of power, or resources, could be put forward and revered. Social image may be based on accepting invitations without returning them. It may be linked to a reputation for declining almost all of them, the resolve to keep one’s door open for visitors all the time, or to deliberately give only one party a year (which will be all the more coveted). It should be added that there are individuals for whom social life is absolutely fundamental and others who rather see it as an inevitable obligation. Lastly, one should not forget that the internationalisation of elite relations is liable to raise serious complications.7 Memoirs, in which the illustrious men or women one has rubbed shoulders with are described, are often precious sources when it comes to grasping what can be at stake in terms of vicarious distinction, especially during those evening festivities when one is simultaneously an actor and a spectator.

Settings and Activities Another way of dealing with this subject is to look at the institutions and occasions designed to facilitate connections. Without claiming to be exhaustive here, I would like to say a few words about the role of the ‘salon’, that of the ‘season’, and elaborate at greater length on clubs, in light of their distinctive properties. I will then turn to some elitist leisure activities, along the same lines.

12  Flaunting Connections 

201

In conjunction with themes that have already been discussed (from decorum to manners, from conversation to food) or that will be addressed later (servants, bodily attitudes, etc.), I could turn my attention to the ritual of the ‘visit’, which has long been crucial in many societies. However, it seems to me that it is even more relevant to look at the rationale of the salon (originally a French aristocratic institution which was to be adopted by the cultivated upper bourgeoisie and to spread geographically). The term refers to a reception room and, by extension, to meetings there, usually under the authority of the lady of the house, who tried to attract attention by inviting brilliant individuals to her residence. What is important for my purposes is that the reputation of a salon depended to a large extent on the ability to highlight the qualities of the guests: from witty regulars to visiting celebrities, but also promising newcomers who were offered a chance to distinguish themselves. There was, of course, a certain amount of internal competition, with verdicts arbitrated by the hostess. However, it was above all her ability to orchestrate the whole that forged a reputation. What mattered was to extract the best from the heterogeneous people present and above all to prove influential, with a view to set the tone by surpassing rival salons. The custom of the season, quite essential in England, was not to make the most of a multitalented audience but to promote a large elite gathering over several months in the capital city. I have already mentioned that, in contrast to standard cases of curial centralisation, British rulers had ultimately encouraged the high nobility to remain on their lands instead. This resulted in a certain dispersion, which was detrimental to the marriage market. The introduction of the season (with its key moments, from formal presentation at court to racecourses and premiere nights at the opera) aimed to compensate for this. The countless receptions, dinners and parties provided opportunities for elites to meet. It was a very competitive world indeed. The concomitance of events forced one to make rather difficult choices, unless one preferred to move endlessly from one to the other. Those who had a second home in London were at an advantage, but it was possible to rent prestigious accommodation where one settled for a time, with many servants.8 It is very instructive to compare this kind of configuration from one capital city to the next, as well as traditions of gathering in famous holiday resorts. Analytically speaking,

202 

J.-P. Daloz

what counts here is a quest for concentration (potentially fruitful in terms of image and exchanges, but also a source of confrontation) following a yearly schedule. Even today, the moves of the ‘jet set’ (the ski season in Gstaad or St. Moritz, the French Riviera at the time of the Monaco Grand Prix and the Cannes Film Festival, St. Barth in December, and so forth) are based on such a preoccupation. I now come to an institution that is still most relevant today and which deserves to be discussed at greater length: the club. Initially an English creation, descendant of the associations of London gentlemen who met in the back rooms of taverns reserved for the occasion, this type of establishment was to develop considerably in the nineteenth century. They were places where people could drink, eat, chat in comfort, read or play. Clubs were often seen as ‘second homes’ and as a ‘male refuge’ offering some freedom from the enclosed atmosphere of the domestic sphere which was increasingly controlled by wives in the Victorian era. This model was then exported around the world. It proved extraordinarily successful in the United States (where membership in famous clubs remains a major criterion of social status), adapted to all kinds of cultures and even survived the waves of decolonisation. However, there are countries (such as France) where it has never really taken root. At first, it was a purely urban phenomenon. The main clubs were housed in the respectable buildings of a smart district and sometimes, at a later stage (especially in economic capitals), at the top of impressive towers. A fundamental development was the advent of the country club in connection with elitist sports (equestrian activities and above all golf ). The intention was to get away from the crowded or dirty city centres. The rise of the automobile and the expansion of residential areas on the outskirts encouraged this trend, and many members indeed ended up settling nearby. Property developers soon realised that the presence of a club with extensive green spaces would guarantee a pleasant environment in the long run. Reciprocally, being surrounded by beautiful estates gave character to the clubs, which gradually modernised, replacing their verandas with air-conditioned rooms and providing themselves with permanent and qualified staff.9 They are instruments of distinction for several reasons. First, it should be emphasised that in many (but not all) cases, access is very difficult. It

12  Flaunting Connections 

203

is not enough to be able to pay extremely high entrance fees, quite often, and then annual subscriptions as well as all sorts of one-off expenses. In major ones, self-respecting aspirants cannot apply spontaneously, but need to be proposed by influential members liable to convince the officials sitting on the board. This is a process that may take years, with long waiting lists before an application is even considered. Co-option into a reputable club both confirms and strengthens a social position. However, apart from status, candidates must also demonstrate that their lifestyle is suitable, that they are up to scratch and will not undermine the institution. The notorious white ball (for acceptance) vs. blackballing (for rejection) ritual, which still prevails in many admission committees, is a source of anxiety not only for the applicant, but also for those who support him or her. Preliminary meetings are frequently organised beforehand (inside or outside the club) in order to test the contenders, who are advised and prepared by their respective sponsors, meant to write letters of recommendation and to arrange informal conversations. Nevertheless, some sociological studies (especially on American clubs) invite us to go beyond the official image set out by these deliberately untransparent institutions. It thus appears that certain members with outstanding reputation or resources are easily admitted. It also proves possible to overcome the infamous obstacle of a black ball (in principle insurmountable) when the participants in the selection committee realise that one of them intended to counter a competitor within his sector of activity, even though the latter presented an acceptable profile. As a matter of fact, all sorts of exchanges are likely to be taken into account, with a few members favouring the admission of an ally as a result of services provided or in the expectation of returned favours. Once the person has been approved, the circumstances of these preliminary processes are likely to be kept in mind. Above all, it is important to understand that it is quite difficult to generalise because there are different types of clubs. Some, priding themselves on being the oldest in a city, frequently pursue a conservative policy particularly suspicious of newcomers, or even maintain a numerus clausus. Others seem to be more sensitive to the need to include new blood and may go so far as to reward those affiliates who manage to attract promising recruits. Still others, pursuing a purely commercial goal, are driven by

204 

J.-P. Daloz

the concern to get as many members as possible to join, regardless of their background. What matters is that the latter are ready to pay enormous sums. Typically offering top-of-the-line facilities, such clubs often claim to be ‘the best’, making special attempts to integrate fast-rising individuals who would find it difficult to be accepted into age-old institutions. A classic point of contention is whether or not it is permissible to use the club to conduct business. It is at times acceptable to invite one’s best clients as well as potential partners liable to appreciate a prestigious environment. Companies may also arrange for some of their executives to be admitted and discreetly reimburse their expenses, hoping that they will make the most of the place. However, many clubs disapprove this kind of instrumentalisation. Besides, it should not be forgotten that major firms usually have their own establishment. Within a metropolis, it appears most fruitful to compare the main clubs, which not only tend to favour very different types of people, more often than not, but have developed extremely dissimilar subcultures (depending on the profile of their members, their financial means and the style of the institution).10 It is fascinating to note that a real socialisation takes place among such organisations, with orientation sessions during which neophytes are supposed to familiarise themselves, for example, with the dress codes according to the occasion. Most of the big clubs have their own, more or less intransigent rules in this respect. Some may impose uniforms on their male members (notably blazers), possibly referring to membership on a particular committee. Women, on the other hand, usually enjoy relative latitude in terms of clothing, as long as it is ‘decent’. A relevant interrogation is to what extent traditions appear to be steadfast, purposely maintained in the name of a club’s venerable image, or liable to change. Another aspect revealed by fieldwork is a quantitative/qualitative divide. The memorable New York banker J.P. Morgan was a member of no less than 19 clubs. In some cases, such an accumulation may be a sign that one is seeking to join as many circles as possible. It may also reflect an exceptional social success, that of a person so predominant that organisations defending very diverse interests seek to co-opt him. However, the prevailing logic is more that of a cursus honorum, pressing one to aim ever higher and to gradually abandon the clubs that no longer correspond to

12  Flaunting Connections 

205

one’s situation (a bit like in a curriculum vitae, some mentions that seemed important at a certain stage eventually prove to be demeaning). From this point of view, the question ‘What is your club?’ is an indirect way of asking about your standing but also of gathering clues regarding your style. Things become more complicated when one takes into consideration the fact that major institutions increasingly operate in networks with reciprocal agreements. To take an example from the academic sector, the Harvard Club has two branches in Boston and one in New York. Moreover, as its brochure proudly asserts, it has forged links with international partners all over the world, allowing its members to be received on highly favourable terms in many prestigious establishments. Historically, however, clubs have often practised a marked exclusivism, rejecting anyone who did not belong to the cream of the upper layers. For instance, it has long been very difficult for members of the Jewish community, and of various religious persuasions, to be admitted to circles controlled by the ‘White Anglo-Saxon Protestants’. They had no other option than to set up their own eventually, as would do African Americans as well, at some stage. The sociological literature, which strongly emphasises segregationist practices with regard to identity or class, also stresses the restricted place given to women, who were long refused entry to ‘Gentlemen’s Clubs’. At the beginning of the twenty-first century, the famous Augusta Golf Club in Georgia (which hosts one of the four major tournaments of the year, that of ‘the Masters’) was still statutorily open to men only. The result of this discrimination has been a lot of resentment and legal battles. Even today, the fate of widows or women divorced from male members is a common source of friction. Similarly, to pursue the reflections of the previous chapter, there are clubs that accept children (possibly playing a significant role in their elitist socialisation) and practise a rather striking reproduction from generation to generation. However, others have imposed age limits and open their doors to the offspring of their members for only a few times a year, particularly on certain festive days. Beyond this problem of access, on which researchers studying clubs tend to focus,11 I find it important for what matters to us here not to neglect any of the elements contributing to distinction. I am thinking of all the dimensions likely to confer a prestigious image and which should

206 

J.-P. Daloz

be compared from one club to another. As far as interiors are concerned, there is quite often a predominantly English manor house atmosphere, with stately staircases, wood panelling, rich bookcases, paintings, comfortable armchairs in the cosy lounges, billiards and one or two bars. The dining rooms may be used to emphasise internal gradations of status (some being reserved for the highest members, also enjoying head tables). However, there are clubs that rather turn towards modernity, opting for famous contemporary architects. Many are surrounded by perfectly manicured lawns and flowerbeds or have a beautiful façade. The staff can be more or less numerous and competent. In the most prestigious clubs, one may find butlers, great chefs, sommeliers and renowned instructors (sometimes former sports stars). It is customary to escort guests who have been asked to identify themselves in the lobby and the member with whom they are meeting (which can be seen as a sign of respect, a mark of refinement, but also as a precaution). In fact, the world of clubs brings together many of the alternatives recurrently discussed in this book: distinction through tradition or novelty, concealment or visibility, and so on. Some take pride in the historical character of buildings that have hosted generations of leading local authorities and in old rituals still scrupulously performed. Others boast state-of-the-art facilities (e.g. professional fitness equipment), dozens of ski slopes, a splendid 18-hole golf course or a heated Olympic swimming pool. It is important to know that the fashion for very prestigious sports (like polo or yachting) usually preceded the establishment of the clubs which were to host such activities. Quite often, the golf course was built first and then a clubhouse was established near the ninth hole. The same was true of racecourses and jockey clubs. So said in passing, the relationship between sport and distinction is worth examining, provided one is fully conscious of serious ambiguities. One need only think of the social image of boxing and rugby, which could be both elitist and popular. A different kind of illustration is the annual cricket tournament that brought together English lords, their servants, and the tenant farmers as well as the field workers of the area (who were supplied with the appropriate equipment), under the watchful eye of a mixed public.12 Of course, very expensive activities are reserved for a minority and require a lot of free time, as Veblen had noted. There are

12  Flaunting Connections 

207

also sports that are deemed ‘respectable’ because they appear most elegant and are surrounded with a whole ceremonial. I have in mind, for example, archery as practised by members of English high society in the Romantic period, including the ladies who wore smart outfits and graceful hats topped with a feather or two for the occasion. When an arrow hit the (golden) centre of the target, the feat was greeted with a resounding blast of the horn, and the overall event ended with prize giving and a lavish dinner.13 Since ancient times, there have been leisure activities that seem essential to demonstrate status. One thinks in particular of what hunting long symbolised for landlords, the distinctive aspect here being fundamentally related to a privilege. Today, confrontation with potentially dangerous animals, difficult to approach or involving distant expeditions, as well as the possession of firearms made of precious wood, not to mention the pomp of hunting with hounds or the lasting emblem of trophies remain important. However, shooting can also have lower-class connotations. This prompts us to look at dynamics from a longue durée perspective and to ask ourselves whether preference is given to individuals who are passionate and excellent in this or that field, regardless of rank, or the latter is favoured.

Notes 1. For example, E. Goffman, Stigma: Notes on the Management of Spoiled Identity, Englewood Cliffs: Prentice Hall, 1963, p. 47. 2. W. Martin, Primates of Park Avenue, op. cit. (Chap. 2). 3. E. Gordon Dotson & M.R. Ashton, J.B. Fischer von Erlach: Architecture as Theater in the Baroque Era, New Haven: Yale UP, 2012. 4. Cf. R.  Murphy, Social Closure: The Theory of Monopolization and Exclusion, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1988. 5. Cf. A.  Martin-Fugier, La vie élégante ou la formation du Tout-Paris, 1815–1848, Paris: Fayard, 1990; D.L. Augustine, Patricians and Parvenus: Wealth and High Society in Wilhelmine Germany, Oxford: Berg, 1994.

208 

J.-P. Daloz

6. In his novel The Rich Play Late (London: A.  Blond, 1964), S. Raven portrays an ill-fated attempt to bring together traditional landowners and members of the London avant-garde, two worlds that do not understand each other. But what matters to the host is the success of his ‘parties’. 7. I refer to what I said in Chap. 9 on manners, about contradictory cultural codes. 8. See H. & M. Evans, The Party that Lasted 100 Days—The Late Victorian Season: A Social Study, London: MacDonald and Jane’s, 1976. 9. The relationship between clubs and their environment is far from always idyllic in the United States, however. In semi-arid areas, for example, excessive water consumption requested for golf courses create great tensions. Conversely, the sudden deployment of urban infrastructure (such as new highways) can damage a club’s epicurean image. This has led to numerous lawsuits and struggles over influence. 10. See J. Holden Sherwood, Wealth, Whiteness, and the Matrix of Privilege: The View from the Country Club, Lanham: Lexington Books, 2010, which compares several clubs in the same city in the north-eastern United States. 11. For example, D. Kendall, Members Only: Elite Clubs and the Process of Exclusion, Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield, 2008. 12. D. Underdown, Start of Play: Cricket and Culture in Eighteenth-Century England, London: Allen Lane, 2000. 13. M. Johnes, ‘Archery, Romance and Elite Culture in England and Wales, c. 1780–1840’, History, vol. 89/2 (2004), pp. 193–208. In M. Scorsese’s film, The Age of Innocence, adapted from E. Wharton’s novel, this kind of scene is well represented (here, in its late transposition to the United States).

13 Servants

Whether they relieve their employers of certain tasks or contribute to decorum, servants often play a very significant, symbolic role. This, however, remains an understudied subject.1 Looking at them as members of the enhancing entourage means considering the relationship mainly from a top-down perspective. The expertise of subordinates may, of course, directly support the quest for distinction. Furthermore, it should not be forgotten that their toil frees up time liable to be devoted to occupations that are particularly rewarding for the social image. Such an approach brings up nuanced views even with regard to the dominated: emphasising, for example, how some maids may take pride in working in the most prestigious houses, or prove extremely fussy about hierarchy. To deal comparatively with the subject requires to study the question of the duties assigned, whether they involve certain skills or are rather ornamental. Subsequently, it is essential to highlight how varied configurations can be, as well as major developments.

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 J.-P. Daloz, Expressions of High Status, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3_13

209

210 

J.-P. Daloz

‘Being served’: Concrete and Symbolic Aspects Before detailing the ways in which this staff may contribute to eminence, it can be argued that the mere fact of having people at one’s service, to give them orders, is in itself an indicator of social standing. It establishes that one belongs to the world of individuals who command and are assisted. In the nineteenth century, relatively modest households enjoying the help of a maid-of-all-work thus stood out from families that could not afford such assistance. According to historians but also to some novels of the time, it seems that the demands made on the servant were all the more stringent the lower the rank of the employers, or the recentness of their limited ascent. This could result, among other things, in an intensive use of the bell and expectations of ostensible submission.2 There is no need to insist on the obvious importance of being able to avoid the most unpleasant chores (either because they are physically painful, dirty, tedious or routine) and entrusting them to men or women perceived as inferior. However, it should be remembered that mechanisms of domination come into play at the servants’ level as well. One thinks of the irascible cook constantly taking it out on the scullery maid, or the coachman endlessly inveighing against the stable boy. Moreover, one must also consider material progress. In the age of fireplaces, removing every trace of ash amounted to a Sisyphean task. It was not exactly the same thing as vacuuming under an electric heater. Nor will I return to aspects mentioned earlier, regarding the assistance needed to overcome some constraints. I refer to what I said, in particular about back-lacing or adjusting complicated dresses, implying that one has a maid at one’s disposal. The imperative nature of the valet’s intervention to dress the lord within large aristocratic houses, like that of the chambermaid in the case of his wife, is far from always being obvious. However, this certainly favours impeccable dress, undoubtedly a major element of distinction. Much more decisive are the achievements that result in a clear added value as far as the social image is concerned: not only good food served regularly, but very original and truly refined dishes; not just a well-kept garden but aesthetically pleasing effects… It goes without saying that the

13 Servants 

211

talents of the staff involved, possibly supported by external specialists, can be used in many areas. It may also happen that the master and mistress of the place, proud of their aptitude in this or that field, add a finishing touch. After having consulted numerous works on everyday life in high society, one comes to identify several contrasting patterns in this respect. On the one hand, elitist distinction may consist in systematically relying on the most qualified servants and on the ability to attract the very best. For centuries in Europe, there has been no shortage of examples as regards the poaching of famous cooks and renowned stewards. These ‘transfers’ were often understood as a signal of the superior financial means, and prestige, of a house. It leads to wonder whether the compliments paid by impressed guests are intended for the owners who know how to surround themselves so well, or rather for the actual authors of certain achievements. In any case, we are undoubtedly at the heart of mechanisms of vicarious display. A paradoxical type of distinction goes so far as to point out one’s incompetence in some field with a view to draw attention to the presence of excellent collaborators meant to remedy it.3 On the other hand, there are members of the upper spheres who pride themselves on being more experienced than their employees and who wish to do without them. For instance, one thinks of those women who, in the early days of the automobile, declined the service of a driver, taking it upon themselves to master these new and imposing machines. Sometimes servants do not seem to be assigned any specific task, except to stand there, silent, eternally flanking a double door or clinging to the back of carriages. Their role seems mainly decorative, as mere superfluous accessories, though they are supposed to instantly meet any request. Later, I will have the opportunity to return to this configuration from the point of view of bodily attitudes and the ambiguities of the fixed posture as well as the standing position (Chap. 16). A good illustration of this type of personnel dedicated to showing off was that of footmen, usually selected for their remarkable height and good looks. Frequently recruited in pairs, they were supposed to make a great impression as they escorted a lady out, walking side by side, a few steps behind her. Ostensibly symbolic tasks could be entrusted to them, just as to those nicely dressed little

212 

J.-P. Daloz

black girls of the West Indian colonies who accompanied their mistress to mass, carrying her missal and her cushion. This brings me to the very interesting issue of the attire of servants. Originally, many had to be content with the humblest of outfits, leaving no doubt as to their inferior status, although some wealthy Romans used to adorn their favourite slaves with jewellery. The advent of livery in the Middle Ages, provided by rulers and lords for their male dependents, was to change this. It was meant to honour the house and to clearly show allegiances. Conversely, a poorly dressed page was a source of indignity. Such a preoccupation could still be found in the nineteenth century, as may be seen throughout Turgenev’s novel Fathers and Sons, where the quality and deterioration of the servants’ clothes are constantly referred to in order to express the state of the finances of this or that family.4 Analytically, this ties with the usual contradiction identified above in relation to vicariousness: i.e. the importance of fully involving subordinates in one’s image, within the context of inter-elite confrontations, while nonetheless marking hierarchical differentiations. The subject was especially sensitive between mistresses and female servants, the former fearing not to be sufficiently distinguished from the latter. Hence, for example, the imposition of blue aprons on maids in the Netherlands (contrasting with the white ones of their employers) and more generally of uniforms that looked good but could not be confused with the clothing of their mistresses. Quite often, it is the physical appearance of the subordinate that acts as an indicator (black women in the United States, indigenous women in Andean capitals, etc.) or a small but significant detail (going barefoot in India, in the Caribbean). However, some circumstances can contribute to blurring impressions. I have particularly in mind off-duty dress. Many female servants in Europe, in search of a good match, used to spend a large proportion of their salary on their clothes, or would don fancy ones acquired after the death of a previous mistress. Secondly, prestigious roles could matter. Thus, Dutch nannies living under the roof of their masters were such status symbols that they were expected to be richly dressed, just like the baby in their care (as can be clearly seen in some Golden Age paintings). Likewise, governesses frequently had a certain amount of latitude in the way they dressed.

13 Servants 

213

Regarding men, Thorstein Veblen rightly points out that in his time, servants working for the richest families were sumptuously adorned, but in the fashion of the past, typically with an open coat over a matching waistcoat, breeches, silk stockings and a powdered wig, all reminiscent of the eighteenth century. This type of outfit could still be found in many countries until the 1930s. It was probably due to nostalgia for aristocratic grandeur. In any case, the formula effectively combined glamour with the necessary disparity between the masters and their helpers. Quite often the best-dressed servants are logically those in contact with the outside world. At the other end of the spectrum, one finds almost invisible staff, relegated to basements, attics and sculleries, who are supposed to stop any activity and humbly step aside whenever they happen to come across someone more important than themselves. Beyond the question of appearance, which is far from negligible for those who are meant to move in the public eye, a major issue remains that of embodied signs of distinction, notably manners, posture and proper verbal expression.5 Both good and poor performance in these regards are likely to reflect on the respectability of a house, the financial means to hire truly qualified staff, and even the ability of the masters of the house to correct any shortcomings. This would actually be the task of the butler or the housekeeper, if there is one. However, in the case of a limited number of staff, visitors will be inclined to establish a cause-and-effect relationship between the degree of refinement of the employees and that of their employers. Unless, as has happened with individuals who have experienced a sudden rise in social status, it is the head-servant who educates his employers to some extent. There are amusing examples of staff (particularly proud of their own mastery of the prevailing codes and most uncompromising about their rightful application) who do not hesitate to pass harsh judgements not only on their peers, but on those who claim to be their superiors. From a sociological point of view, the position of servant has been legitimately apprehended as being at the intersection of classes and as a vehicle for the transmission of values. In terms of distinction, what is worthy of attention is its potential role as an agent contributing to the diffusion of elitist activities.6 Conversely, it may be hypothesised that

214 

J.-P. Daloz

certain borrowings from popular mores, hence from the bottom up, occurred through domestic workers. Whatever the case, it is important to realise that, once again, we come across the theme of the qualitative/quantitative nature of distinction. As I write these lines, I recall the episode (mentioned by Herodotus) of Smindyrides, a native of the above-mentioned city of Sybaris and one of the suitors for the daughter of the tyrant of Sycion, who showed up with a good thousand servants, mainly cooks. I am also thinking of the image of the perfect ‘butler’, here in the sense of a high-end factotum supposed to iron the newspaper every morning, to systematically present everything (from the mail to the decanter) on a silver platter, and who is capable of dazzling guests with his exceptional dexterity at dinner time. It is worth noting that elitist hindrances (such as the admirable but risky handling of the big spoon and fork used to serve food with one hand only) may equally concern subordinates. Whether or not this is more impressive than a plethora of unskilled servants is largely a question of cultural perception. In Tsarist Russia, it was fashionable to staff palaces with ‘orderlies’ in every corner. I also have in mind those residences of West African traditional chiefs, I used to visit, which are full of idle men who seem to benefit from the generosity of the local ‘kinglet’ much more than they contribute to his stature. Nevertheless, it is important to understand the assertion of prestige related to the fact of being surrounded with many dependents in this type of holistic environment. Obviously, quality and quantity are not incompatible. It is well known that on luxury liners in the past, the number of (highly trained) employees of certain companies such as Cunard could exceed that of passengers. Distinctiveness used to be based on a very elaborate division of labour, often combined with scores of fancy titles. This phenomenon can indeed be traced back to the Roman Empire, where slaves were dedicated to all sorts of functions, frequently in relation to the pleasures and comfort of their masters (from specialised cooks, tasters to masseurs and concubines, but also perhaps including musicians, dressmakers, bee-keepers, and so forth), in addition to those who performed the most servile tasks or, on the contrary, demanded a high level of qualification (such as doctors, pedagogues or scribes). Besides, some slaves could be placed in the personal service of a family member whom they were supposed to attend day

13 Servants 

215

and night.7 Evidence regarding the activities of servants over the centuries, in relation to social distinction, is at times quite surprising. For example, one English aristocrat sent a ‘spy’ to Paris who was expected to regularly write reports on the latest fashions in dress and hairstyles. Not only did the novelist Edith Wharton send her maids to prepare the suite of the hotel where she was to be staying, but one of them was in charge of washing and polishing the coins that her mistress would use the next day. It is remarkable how an extensive distribution of responsibilities, based on an ‘organisational chart’, could lead to extremely hierarchical relationships. Even more remarkable is the propensity of some staff to attach greater importance to certain rituals emphasising their rank at this subordinate level than those who employ them. In the major Victorian houses, interactions between the steward, the butler, the ‘under-butler’, the housekeeper (who all often had servants of their own), the lord’s valet and the lady’s principal maid, the parlour maids, lackeys, the gamekeeper, the cook, the under-cook and a host of lower staff required an unbelievable symbolic orchestration. This concerned, for instance, the arrangement of meals taken together in the servants’ dining room. The junior employees would enter first but they were expected to remain standing until the arrival of their superiors, who had to join them one by one, based on their respective rank. The latter would retire afterwards to a second room forbidden to people of a lower position than themselves.8 Downstairs etiquette sometimes had it that the steward and his female counterpart never speak directly to each other. The former communicated his messages through a valet, while the latter replied through a chambermaid. In addition to the formal classification of functions, privileged access to the master and mistress could prove important, with certain servants enjoying an enviable position in this respect, possibly helping them to bypass the established order. Equally, it happened that tasks requiring a high degree of cooperation would give rise to conflict, with some staff refusing to do this or that job—which could result in necessary arbitration, but also lasting resentment. Besides, the arrival of new employees with unprecedented occupations (the driver, an archivist, a tutor, a head nurse, even a personal physician) often complicated matters.

216 

J.-P. Daloz

Finally, it is worth mentioning the case of those servants boasting of their employer’s superior status, especially in altercations with fellow servants deemed to be from lesser houses. As I will recall in the chapter on precedence, it was, for instance, a fairly common scenario between coachmen who, beyond the habitual streams of insults, went so far as to use whips on each other. Generally speaking, they would make way for their vehicle without any consideration for crowds. Moreover, servants could cause trouble in cafés, feeling somewhat protected by their affiliation with an illustrious family. As early as the Middle Ages, when a vassal received his suzerain with all the honours, we have accounts of the latter’s entire retinue expecting to receive preferential treatment, even among the lower ranks. Yet again, by virtue of this sense of being a kind of extension of the greatness of those one serves, there would also be much to say regarding the relationship to suppliers. Since Greek antiquity, the recurring image of terribly demanding cooks on the markets comes to mind— whether it was as a result of their exceptional purchasing power or because of the very high opinion they had of their function.9 Attitudes of this nature tend to reveal that the symbolic realities of domestic service might be much more complex that it seems at first glance. This is even more obvious when comparative reflections and certain dynamics are taken into account.

Configurations, Metamorphoses, Ambiguities Indeed, as soon as we look at concrete situations in detail, the diversity of the arrangements becomes evident. There are clearly huge differences between the condition of a slave, that of a servant of old, working mainly in exchange for food and shelter, a salaried employee from the nineteenth century and the current status of highly-paid specialised professionals. Moreover, it appears that this is a universe that can be predominantly male (as in India, for instance10), essentially female, or mixed. It may also correspond to a certain age group (e.g. before marriage), or last a lifetime (with or without the requirement of celibacy). One comes across true dynasties of servants, succeeding one another from generation to generation. The employee may even belong, literally, to the family, as was the

13 Servants 

217

case of members of impoverished branches who were offered a position as tutor or lady’s companion. I am also thinking of those arrangements, much common in sub-Saharan Africa, whereby children (legitimate or not), born in urban areas, are sent to the home village of one of their parents, who regularly sends money for their upkeep. Reciprocally, rural children are taken in at the age of 12 or 13 to do menial tasks in exchange for board and lodging, and possibly a minimal amount of education. Even within the same category, fate could be extremely variable. On the large plantations in the southern United States, for example, the question was raised as to whether it was preferable to be attached to the main house (where a few fringe benefits could be obtained, but under constant supervision) or to stay in remote cabins (the lot of slaves assigned to labour in the fields) and enjoy a hint of independence after the hard day’s work. The issue of the merits and demerits of living under the employer’s roof is still being debated in many countries. From a social distinction perspective, when reading numerous texts or visiting certain places, one becomes aware of all sorts of modalities, possibly linked to the very person of the servants. Thus, one discovers that in Rome, where the taste for exotic slaves was highly developed, owning men and women of extremely different appearance (sometimes coming from the most remote provinces of the empire) was a major signal of achievement for rising families. Likewise, the presence of unconventional people contributed greatly to the distinction of many courts. In 1566, a Roman cardinal had a banquet served by 34 dwarves, while Peter the Great was said to have had a hundred at his disposal. A particularly impressive servant, such as the ‘giant’ of Ambras Castle in the Austrian Tyrol (both a bodyguard and a source of curiosity), fulfilled a similar function. So did young men with an exceptional physique, for one reason or another, who could be ostentatiously adorned.11 Let us not forget the fashion for ‘little negroes’, wearing either a livery or an exotic costume, who abounded at the court of James I, for example, and were treated as pets. It is also interesting to compare which tasks are given priority. There are mistresses of the house who are utterly obsessed with cleanliness. In South America, poor maids spend their lives scrubbing, disinfecting and purifying large residences. The paradox is that they are indigenous people

218 

J.-P. Daloz

perceived as dirty and living in filthy neighbourhoods. Spotless homes do allow the wearing of immaculate white clothes, indirectly signalling that one frequents perfectly suitable places only. From an elite perspective, one of the most thought-provoking configurations is undoubtedly that of ‘noble service’ within certain court societies.12 The genesis of this system can be traced back to the Middle Ages, when lords used to send their children (especially the younger ones) to train as pages. The idea is that serving the sovereign (handing him his shirt, napkin, glass, or holding his candlestick at bedtime), far from being seen as a servile task, turn out to be an honour (in French, the objects concerned were actually designated as honneurs). Being appointed to perform such functions became a source of distinction and dignity, given the proximity involved to the person of the king (or queen, in the case of the analogous female sphere). It was a good indicator of one’s position in the hierarchy of the palace. Of course, these constraints have also been interpreted as a testimony to royal omnipotence (according to Norbert Elias’ famous, though disputed, thesis). Comparatively speaking, this was especially important under the Bourbons, but equivalents could be found elsewhere, notably at the table of the Habsburg. Some roles were permanent, like those of ‘carving equerry’ or cupbearer (with their respective emblems) at banquets towards the end of the medieval era. Others depended on the rank of the individuals being present, but also on the sovereign’s pleasure. Similar logic could be found on the occasion of major diplomatic summits (such as the Field of the Cloth of Gold, or the meeting between the French regent Philippe d’Orléans and Peter the Great, for instance) where the guest was celebrated in this way by his host, the question being whether the latter appeared sufficiently grateful. It should be added that nobles who felt they were in a strong position, for one reason or another, refrained from fulfilling their duties, not without boasting about it. We also note complete reversals, e.g. when sovereigns themselves handed over nightshirts to some newlywed vassals. This is a practice reminiscent of those ‘rituals of inversion’ long analysed by anthropologists and, for instance, including washing the feet of the destitute, once a year, in reference to the Christian model. Finally, it is worth pointing out that certain offices held by ladies-in-waiting, although

13 Servants 

219

potentially demanding, were nonetheless very much sought after. This was due to the generous pensions attached to them and the symbolic importance of being constantly seen with the queen. While it is instructive to study configurations closely, it also matters to be conscious of consequential dynamics. One must establish fairly clear-­ cut divisions between the slavery periods, interactions of the feudal type mixing service and protection, and a modern contractual environment of a very different nature. Equally essential is to realise that developments are not necessarily similar from one part of the world to another. There are contexts (in sub-Saharan Africa, for example) where one is durably confronted with logics of exchanges whereby relationships involving exploitation are tinged with paternalism, under the pretext of mutual aid among families. Moreover, it is important to think in terms of abundant labour (as is still the case in most poor countries) or, on the contrary, of shortage. In Europe or the United States, supply and demand have been inverted altogether. In the nineteenth century, losing one’s job without any letter of recommendation that would help to obtain another could be catastrophic, given the huge numbers of men and women looking for work. Subsequently, however, already before the First World War (entailing an unprecedented mobilisation of troops and high male mortality), but even more so after it, a series of factors contributed towards a trend reversal. One must notably mention here a relative emancipation of women, due to their access to less arduous and better-paid professions (saleswoman and so forth), including for girls with little education. Among the middle classes, the housewife, and later the spouse or partner with a good job, enjoying the latest electrical appliances at home, represented a new ideal of respectability. At this stage, keeping on full-time servants (who tended to be much better remunerated than in the past) was no longer within the reach of any but the most wealthy families. This was obviously not the case in less developed regions of the world, where the services of a domestic worker remained the norm even at a relatively low social level. While in the 1960s and 1970s, the cohabitation with servants fell into disuse, there was a resurgence later on, but in new ways. Firstly, it has rightly been pointed out that the rise of luxury hotels, which made a comeback during the neoliberal reaction of the 1980s and beyond, could

220 

J.-P. Daloz

play a compensatory role. In a book summarising her participant observation in two establishments where she successively held various positions, Rachel Sherman shows how being served in a very individualised manner can make up for the absence of staff at home.13 In addition to the enjoyment of the highest comfort, distinction is expressed through the multiplication of special, often extravagant requests (from ionisation of the air in the room, to the exceptional opening of a shop early in the morning), made to obliging teams who are receptive to such expectations. Of course, we are no longer dealing with a dyadic relationship here, but a three-way one, with the dominant actor in the position of customer, not employer. The preferences of the regulars (in the same five-star hotel or within upscale chains) are generally anticipated: whether it is a question of never using a certain disinfectant, of taking care of dogs whose names have been memorised, of unpacking or not unpacking suitcases, of making sure a favourite delicacy is served, etc. At the same time, so-called ‘concierge services’ have emerged. They offer to act as intermediaries with all kinds of service providers. Dedicated and discreet agents (constantly available but extremely expensive) make a point of obtaining seats for sold-out shows, a table in Michelin-starred restaurants with long waiting lists, or of organising personalised trips to unlikely places. Finally, there is much evidence of the return of the multi-skilled servants, but of a novel kind. Having undergone selective and costly training, they are more like managers than butlers. They, too, act as diligent intermediaries between their clients and companies in a wide range of sectors, from aircraft rental to park maintenance, from security guards to dog grooming. It is no longer a question of reverting to the many servants of yesteryear, but of having a coordinator at the centre of a whole network of outside contributors. He or she will pay the bills and handle the accounts. Two aspects are worth highlighting. First, this new type of very well-paid staff has adapted to the latest twenty-first-century technologies and will be able, for example, to remotely control the sophisticated surveillance systems of several residences and a yacht. Second, they seem to operate in a less hierarchical relationship than their predecessors, being seen as indispensable collaborators simplifying their employer’s life.14 Of course, they must be perfectly reliable and efficient.

13 Servants 

221

Such transformations call into question the traditional ways of approaching the theme of subservience. At the end of her ethnographic survey in luxury hotels, Rachel Sherman comes up with some rather subtle notations, showing that a good part of the staff studied tends to minimise their subordinate status vis-à-vis wealthy but also very generous clients, while insisting on a feeling of collective superiority compared to employees working in less prestigious establishments. Objectively (some would say structurally), the relation of domination is undeniable, but it seems to be mitigated by the belief that one belongs to a privileged environment. The social actors under study do not delude themselves about the possibility of ever reaching the level of those they serve. Nonetheless, their company, the satisfaction of knowing how to meet their expectations, contributes to self-esteem and even to distinction of a sort. For the comparativist, once again, nuanced analyses prove to be required, even if the examination of many aspects leads to an awareness of fundamentally unequal types of interaction. The issue of naming is a good example. In Rome, not only could owners call their slaves whatever they liked, but the names were more often than not suffixed with demeaning terms. Usually three names were juxtaposed, including one referring to the master and one to the provenance. In the American plantations, it was out of the question to keep the original African names, which were considered unpronounceable. The master or foreman renamed the slave as he pleased, thus clearly indicating his power.15 As a result, many saw their designation change again and again as they were resold. Quite often these names were deliberately pejorative or ironic. Researchers working on the registers of the time have noted that names taken from Greco-Roman antiquity (evoking a god, a hero or an emperor) were commonplace, creating a discrepancy with the Christian names of the whites but also indirectly revealing the erudition of the masters. Glorious titles (e.g. king, prince or duke) may have been assigned derisively.16 Equally, as was usually the case in the English-speaking colonies, the name could just describe the function (e.g. boy or nanny). In Europe, and still as a clear sign of subjugation, it was customary in some houses to give the same first name to the servant holding this or that post. The master, mistress and their children thus had no need to make any effort to remember. The first valet was systematically called

222 

J.-P. Daloz

James, for example. In England, however, the surnames of the top servants were used as a rule. What can be witnessed most of the time are just demonstrations of asymmetry. In France, maids were typically required to address their employers only in the third person. It has also become habitual to call the barman at the club by his first name, the reverse being obviously unthinkable. The fact remains that valued subordinates could be given prestigious nicknames in certain contexts. This was, for instance, the case for the most beautiful captives in the harems. Once again, this proves that the world of domestic service is sometimes more ambivalent than it appears at first glance. The intention here is in no way to ignore its harshest aspects (suffice it to think of the unenviable fate of Filipino maids in the Gulf countries, still exploitable at will nowadays17). Yet, as early as antiquity, we have the famous counter-­ example of Pliny the Younger showing undeniable solicitude towards his slaves, and even erecting monuments to the memory of a few of them. It is worth mentioning how unimaginably devoted some servants could be. Among many possible illustrations, one may refer to those who accompanied and continued to serve their masters in prison during the 1793–1794 ‘reign of Terror’ in France, and who pleaded for them before revolutionary courts. I also have in mind the singular position of the eunuchs, who underwent terrible mutilation, but could subsequently enjoy (particularly in China and in the Ottoman Empire) a rather high status, including serious prerogatives; or that of those faithful servants who became the favourites of great sovereigns, whose remuneration aroused much jealousy and who even ended up disrupting the official protocol.18 Above all, it is important to consider the authority that some servants may exercise, precisely in relation to their superiors’ concerns for distinction. In the early days of the automobile, many drivers were apparently not willing to be treated as mere servants. They were often ex-coachmen who had been sent to train (there once was a Rolls-Royce School) but knew quite well how to use their mechanical knowledge in order to alter the balance of power. At a time when garages were rare and breakdowns ubiquitous, people who could afford a car showed themselves to be understandably thrilled with the speed and the freedom from the constraints of the railways. However, they became heavily dependent on their all-powerful driver/mechanic.19 Of course, this situation ended as

13 Servants 

223

soon as vehicles turned out to be more reliable. Experienced technicians ceased to be a rare commodity and owners themselves possibly began to take an interest in technical aspects. It appears that today’s very skilled staff also have a relationship with their employers that has become somewhat less uneven. The ‘new servants’, whether high-tech, wine or martial arts experts, are very much in demand and it is risky to let them go. Besides, the whims of very wealthy individuals (with, for example, dozens of vintage cars requiring endless polishing, or a plethora of pets that need constant care) mean that they have to surround themselves with zealous collaborators well aware of their expectations. These, however, are not entirely interchangeable. Even highly-educated ‘nannies’, earning over $100,000 a year in the United States and enjoying a multitude of fringe benefits, would be in a position to engage in some ‘blackmail’ as they are strategically in charge of the very demanding young children. The relationship between mothers with ceaseless social obligations and them often proves quite delicate and requires tact. It is, of course, possible to dismiss nannies without notice, but finding a suitable replacement quickly is no easy task, and many an employer seems to think twice before making such a decision. Moreover, investigations reveal a perpetual fear of disclosure of secrets to which the servants may be privy. This certainly urges the long-term attachment of their loyalty.

Notes 1. The bulk of the literature focuses on class relations according to Marxist and feminist analytical frameworks. 2. Not to mention possible sexual harassment. See A.  Martin-Fugier, La place des bonnes. La domesticité féminine à Paris en 1900, Paris: Perrin, 2004 [1979]. 3. F. Bouza mentions sixteenth-century Spanish courtiers who cultivated illegible handwriting in order to show that they were able to afford the services of a private secretary. See his book Communication, Knowledge, and Memory in Early Modern Spain, Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2004. When we realise the role that servants played

224 

J.-P. Daloz

in disclosing sensitive information, obviously to their benefit, their illiteracy may have had its advantages, however. 4. B. Christa, ‘Vestimentary Markers in Turgenev’s “Ottsy i deti” (Fathers and Sons)’, New Zealand Slavonic Journal, 1983, pp. 21–36. 5. In Paris, in the past, many servants spoke hardly anything other than their own dialect, or had an accent that was considered terrible. This could be a problem. See C.  Fairchilds, Domestic Enemies: Servants & Their Masters in Old Regime France, Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins UP, 1984, which, despite some inaccuracies, is very informative. 6. This is notably what happened with certain card games. Perspectives in terms of imitation (pioneered by G. de Tarde), are relevant here, as servants often copied their masters. 7. Cf. K. Harper, Slavery in the Late Roman World, AD 275–425, Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2011. 8. See, for example, P.  Horn, The Rise and Fall of the Victorian Servant, Dublin: Gill and Macmillan, 1975, or the memoirs of the Marchioness of Bath, Before the Sunset Fades, Longleat: Longleat Estate Company, 1951. 9. J. Wilkins, The Boastful Chef, op. cit., p. 298. On the other hand, there is also the eternal suspicion of possible collusion with merchants to the detriment of employers. 10. In that country, there is a traditional division of domestic labour in relation to caste and purity considerations. On this and contemporary developments, see R. Ray & S. Qayum, Cultures of Servitude: Modernity, Domesticity and Class in India, Stanford: Stanford UP, 2009. 11. See H. Morrison, ‘Dressing Angelo Soliman’, Eighteenth-Century Studies, vol. 44/3 (2011), pp. 361–382. 12. I draw here mainly on G. Sternberg, Status Interaction during the Reign of Louis XIV, Oxford: Oxford UP, 2014 (Chap. 6). 13. Class Acts: Service Inequality in Luxury Hotels, Berkeley: University of California Press, 2007. Permanent residence in a hotel is in fact a trend that has been developing since the 1920s (from Carnegie to Capone). In addition, it can be estimated that certain very exclusive clubs, with their attentive staff, fulfil more or less the same function. 14. Cf. R. Frank, Richi$tan, op. cit. 15. In the social sciences, the power of naming is generally regarded as fundamental. One thinks of Christopher Columbus frantically naming island after island.

13 Servants 

225

16. R.K. Fitts, Inventing New England’s Slave Paradise: Master/Slave Relations in Eighteenth-Century Narragansett, Rhode Island, New  York: Garland Publications, 1998. 17. The global dimensions of domestic employment are increasingly being studied, especially with regard to the major flows that can be identified and to the exploitation of poverty. Of particular interest here are judgements related to origins. In Egypt, for example, Asians and ‘Nubians’ are seen as more reliable than local girls, involving fears of theft and insubordination. Historically, it is important to note that there have been fashions in this respect (e.g. a German instead of a French nurse in England), according to the fluctuations of international relations, but further to considerations of social distinction too. 18. Such as the famous Constant, Roustan and César for Napoléon I, or the Indian Munshi for Queen Victoria. 19. Many, infatuated with their skills, laid down their conditions. They could refuse to clean the vehicle or have expectations regarding accommodation when travelling. See K. Borg, ‘“The Chauffeur Problem” in the Early Auto Era: Structuration Theory and the Users of Technology’, Technology and Culture, vol. 40/4 (1999), pp. 797–832.

14 Artists

Elites often like to surround themselves with things that are not only impressive and astonishing, but are also considered very beautiful. Indeed, many collections were once understood as an emanation of the sovereigns themselves. They were thoroughly catalogued and deemed to contribute significantly to their eminence. In the introduction to the first section, I mentioned the various possible origins of prestige goods (plundering, tributes, exchanges, purchases, and so forth). When it comes to commissions, what matters is to hire the services of talented professionals belonging to various fields or artistic disciplines. They are expected to apply their know-how in order to produce works liable to celebrate the glory of the powerful. That said, a host of questions immediately arise. Are we dealing with a hunt for dazzling possessions as such (being part of a general infatuation with anything perceived as precious)? Are we talking of aesthetically pleasing objects? If so, is the appreciation related to sound judgements presumably reflecting the quality of the appreciator, or does it result from a perfect mastery of the current canons? Is a certain erudition in artistic affairs claimed, pertaining to the quest for distinction? Is patronage what prevails?

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 J.-P. Daloz, Expressions of High Status, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3_14

227

228 

J.-P. Daloz

Sticking to my perspective on vicarious display, I would like, first of all, to revisit the classical subject of the relationship between artisans or artists and dominant social actors, but from a comparative standpoint. I will then come to the issue of representations aiming to foster a flattering image.

Orders Over the centuries and across civilisations, the figure of the renowned creator appears to be quite exceptional. It seems to have made sense within only a few (mainly ‘Western’) societies. The anonymity of most productions as well as the significant absence in many ancient languages of terms designating ‘artworks’ or ‘artists’ are proof of this. The risk is once again to extrapolate by projecting our conceptions on the whole of humanity (and this, since cave art). In ancient Greece, the majority of the kouroï and kórai (i.e. the nude statues representing male and female youths) were usually of a very conventional kind and unsigned. However, some craftsmen did try to lift themselves out of their subaltern rank and to obtain social recognition by asserting a singular talent. This evolution is all the more remarkable as it took place in a cultural context which tended to despise manual work. Indeed, the physical efforts required for sculpture in particular were somewhat reminiscent of the labour incumbent upon slaves. Moreover, it was nothing less than a break with tradition (a pretension to innovate and to create original vases or paintings, for example), justifying higher prices. From the buyer’s point of view, the acquisition of works by major artists was to become a symbolically important criterion, often leading to discussions on their respective qualities within the circles concerned. This phenomenon was to take on great significance in Rome, where wealthy individuals began to collect replicas of statues by Phidias and other famous sculptors. Local elites were also eager to attract brilliant poets able to celebrate their pre-eminence. A triangular relationship between patrons (like Maecenas), writers-clients and educated readers emerged. There is no doubt that the renown of top figures benefited from such praise. However, the artists themselves sought to distinguish

14 Artists 

229

themselves, taking advantage of the visibility of the process to assert their own merits and promote their reputation.1 Later, in medieval Europe, this type of arrangement was to disappear for a long time and be replaced by a world of guilds (with craftsmen and apprentices governed by charters) as well as itinerant pieceworkers. Predictably enough, very few names of exceptional contributors have come down to us. It must be said that we are talking of rather underprivileged social milieus, whose members were interchangeable, as can notably be seen in the case of the cathedral builders. If we look at the global level, we must admit that (in so far as we know anything about specific situations) the most common configuration was one in which ‘creators’ remained nameless. There are a few exceptions though. Anyone interested in Chinese landscape painting, for example, is aware of the fact that certain great masters enjoyed some recognition under this or that dynasty. They were to remain a source of inspiration for followers who paid their tribute to them by introducing only minor changes, according to subtle expectations of academic continuity. This was a very singular artistic universe where, for instance, connoisseurs not only invited most distinguished visitors to admire their prestigious collection, but also considered it an honour to have them write an annotation in the margin of a painting, next to the seals affixed by the former owners. This further increased the value of the work. Apart from these ancient and Far Eastern limited precedents, the emergence of the genuine Artist was to take place, of course, at the (pre-) Renaissance period. By then, the best painters became so celebrated and sought after that they eventually were able to dictate their conditions even to the major rulers and popes. In fact, several stages must be differentiated. The first one concerns the liberation from the hold of the guilds and new affiliations to courts.2 This was, for instance, how the Limbourg brothers or a Jan van Eyck received the coveted title of valet de chambre, which offered perks and explicitly signalled their close proximity to the Lord. At a time when the great dukes (of Burgundy or of Anjou), and their principal officers (such as Chancellor Rolin), strove to compensate for their sub-monarchical rank by displaying magnificence, one easily understands the strategic role that those ‘artist-coordinators’ could fulfil. What was expected of painters, as a matter of fact, was not only to

230 

J.-P. Daloz

produce pictures, but also to give advice on architecture, decorative arts and to represent the Lord’s projects in sketch form. Besides, they frequently had to organise the work of many different craftsmen (glassmakers, woodcarvers, etc.) and to organise festivities. Some even carried out delicate diplomatic missions. The status of the talented individual was then quite ambiguous. He undoubtedly emancipated himself from the grip of the specialised structures that oversaw all transactions in cities. To a certain extent, he enjoyed curial prestige, participating fully in the dynastic quest for recognition. However, what was required in exchange for protection was a frantic and wide-ranging activity, often to the detriment of his own artistic production and his reputation in this field. The next stage was that of the eminent, independent artist working on commission only, asking for large advances, never respecting deadlines and arguing that the creative process could not suffer excessive constraints. One thinks of Michelangelo’s memorable ‘when I can’, in response to Pope Julius II’s inquiry about when the decoration of the Sistine Chapel would finally be completed. The balance of power shifted somewhat for highly rated artists. The value of their works was no longer dependent upon what was represented (large religious scenes, for example), nor to the cost of what went into their composition (e.g. very expensive pigments, such as lapis lazuli from Afghanistan demanded by wealthy patrons, and precious wood for the frames), but mainly upon the cachet of their illustrious signature. The artist was sometimes considered a ‘genius’, displaying amazing talent and flair, which expectedly came to be interpreted in terms of sprezzatura (cf. Chap. 7) in Italy. Eventually, some of them would claim elite status themselves and often show marked eccentricity.3 To a lesser extent, this also became true for highly valued artisans working in sectors absolutely essential to the image of the great. If Rose Bertin, the famous dressmaker of Marie-Antoinette, had to constantly deal with intransigent suppliers and customers who rarely paid her on time, the patronage of the queen (who was keen on launching new fashions) allowed her to prosper, to invest in real estate, to afford a residence in the country and to be given a prominent place at the theatre. The sovereign even granted her the unprecedented privilege of greeting her in public and, feeling bolstered by this royal support, the merchant would

14 Artists 

231

sometimes behave arrogantly, including towards certain ladies of the court.4 A similar phenomenon was observed in the following century with the aptly named Charles Frederick Worth, who long stood at the very top of Parisian haute couture. His dresses were in such demand that he allowed himself to patronise clients from the aristocracy or the opulent international bourgeoisie, not hesitating to keep them waiting for hours or to smoke cigars in their presence.5 Here, one realises that when elites are dependent on inventive designers for the manifestation of their status, even milliners are no longer necessarily in a subordinate role at their service. For anyone interested in ‘vicarious display’ this is a remarkable borderline case indeed. However, the exceptional success of a few should not make us forget that, for the great majority of artists or artisans, the desire for full autonomy and the claim to assert their own style more often than not led to an insecure ‘Bohemian life’ (much looked down by the upper classes). A comparative approach in fact leads to the identification of multiple configurations. First of all, it must be noted that the position of ‘official artist’ sometimes persisted, with both the advantages and disadvantages of belonging to the household staff, be it at the top of the hierarchy. These men fulfilled their function as stewards-coordinators, called upon to perform all sorts of tasks, from checking the quality of the king’s portraits, produced in series, to spying on the achievements of rival courts. They could also be groups, like the musicians attached to the chapel of a major castle in Europe, or those highly esteemed theatre companies in Ming China which patrons used to lend to one another. In some very different contexts, such as the Netherlands in the seventeenth century, the range of buyers was potentially much wider, and painters could sell a great deal, including at open-air markets. This ensured them a decent income, but they belonged to the middle classes at best. Elsewhere, the emergence of academies was to be of considerable importance (artists attached to such institutions expecting recognition and appreciation). The same goes for state public commissions in a ‘colbertist’ way. Indeed, a number of themes emerge as soon as one looks closely at the subject: from innovative hairdressers knowing full well how to take advantage of the spirit of competition among elites, to pop stars being paid premium prices to perform at private parties (usually on the

232 

J.-P. Daloz

occasion of a tycoon’s birthday nowadays, with the privileged guests promoting their own distinction by rushing to post photos), not to mention the artistic ambitions of certain members of high society themselves.

Flattering Representations If the possession of works of art and the ability to complete one’s decor can occupy a significant place in the constitution of a distinguished appearance, it is all the more so the case when elites are personally concerned. What is sought after, quite often, is not just a relatively faithful image but a gratifying one, reinforcing the impression of eminence. The study of strategies in this domain, especially with respect to multiple conventions of a textual or iconographic nature, proves most stimulating for the comparative analyst. As regards writings, the tradition in Europe has long been to dedicate works to one’s protector. I have in mind the classic medieval scene whereby the kneeling author pays homage to the ruler, humbly handing his volume. More essential to my point is the enumeration of the latter’s virtues, frequently based on an expected repertoire (to be fully exploited at funeral orations, for example). The account of his achievements, or of great events organised under his high patronage, would typically be included. We may also come across group descriptions contributing to the celebration of the central actor. Thus, the chroniclers of the late medieval period gave detailed descriptions of tournaments, receptions and balls, insisting on the finery of the major participants. The objective was obviously to preserve the memory of these sumptuous events. The report of the lavish festivities at Versailles partook of the same logic, akin to what Louis Marin calls a ‘re-presentation’ (the prefix ‘re-’ expressing not only the idea of a second presentation for those who were not there, but that of a suggestive intensification).6 The laudatory text may also highlight the possessions of the elites. In her study of Statius, Noelle K. Zeiner shows how, by offering extremely subtle readings of the prestige goods and refined lives of his patrons, this Latin poet contributed greatly to their distinction. Whether he depicted wonderful villas or exalted eminently epicurean lifestyles, the author of

14 Artists 

233

the Silvae (who, incidentally, would be chosen by Dante as the introducer to Paradise in his Divine Comedy) used all the brilliance of his style to extol the excellence of those who invited him. The classicist wonders to what extent Statius was merely an interpreter (definitely a particularly attentive and talented one) of the latter’s achievements, or whether he managed to ‘create distinction’ by discerning more than what was intended by his hosts.7 In any case, we are not dealing with a conventional hagiography here, but with penetrating observations, full of mythological references. Such texts were to raise the writer to the rank of a coveted exegete whose magnificent testimonies would contribute to build up his own reputation. This was quite remarkable at a time (the last decades of the first century AD) when a moralising literary vein stigmatising luxury did predominate. Visual evocations obviously constitute a major element of elitist representations. If one apprehends them on a very large scale (say from Mediterranean antiquity to the Khmer or Mayas bas-reliefs), apart from a few aspects that are relatively easy to decipher, it proves essential to master the cultural codes involved. Even if one were to limit oneself to the study of the painted portrait in the West, one would find that a multitude of parameters are likely to interact (indeed referring to many of the themes brought together in this book). Since pictorial transcriptions most often strive to flatter the individuals concerned, a preliminary question is that of their physical appearance. It was not uncommon for possible flaws to be erased, at the initiative of the (wo)man represented or of the artist. Archetypal examples (mentioned by Alberti in the Renaissance) are that of the Macedonian general Antigonus the One-Eyed, deliberately shown on his ‘good side’ by Apelles, and that of Pericles who, being seemingly very ‘hung-up’ about his deformed skull, always kept a helmet on when he was portrayed. It is worth noting that there is no unrealistic correction here, but a ruse based on the point of view or including an accessory. Many centuries later, Piero della Francesca used the first procedure in his famous paintings of the Duke of Urbino, Federico III da Montefeltro (who had lost his right eye in a joust), while Giovanni Bellini opted for a representation of Mehmed II almost turned three quarters, in order to conceal the strabismus of the conqueror of Byzantium. On the other hand, it is well known in England that Cromwell

234 

J.-P. Daloz

insisted on appearing with his unsightly warts (‘warts and all’, he is told to have said to the greatest portraitist of the time, Peter Lely), as if they stood as a guarantee of the sincerity of his commitment. Another interesting case is that of the rather ugly Pope Innocent X, seriously overstated by Velázquez a few years earlier, and who allegedly declared ‘too beautiful!’ upon discovering the result. These illustrations lead one to wonder if it was the artist’s ability to render a face with a strong resemblance to the original that was appreciated above all, or if a certain mastery of embellishment was hoped for. This proved to be particularly crucial for marriageable princesses: whether the official painter was required to draw a portrait of the possible bride, or whether the suitor’s court sent ‘his’ artist (supposedly more neutral, but potentially corruptible). Similar problems have arisen with busts and statues. Nevertheless, here, it is above all the bad weather and the ravages of time that are likely to distort the appearance.8 I will not return to the theme of adornment, which has already been dealt with, including as regards the members of the entourage (children, servants, and so forth) meant to consolidate the perception of eminence. However, the search for a second level of interpretation, focusing on the representation given itself, is appropriate. It goes without saying that the elites have long tended to wear their most admirable attire as well as their most sumptuous jewels in paintings. The ability to translate pictorially what was especially impressive must also be taken into account. The masters who were able to reproduce the shimmering of the fabrics, the pleats, the furs, the glitter of the jewels were extremely sought after. Before the advent of oil painting and its amazing properties for virtuoso artists as from Van Eyck, it was considered that the best way to represent the brilliance of golden ornaments, especially large chains, was no less than to resort to small pieces of inserted gold leaf. A remarkable duplication of luxury indeed! Full-length portraits, giving the sensation of being in front of a life-size figure, provided a good opportunity to depict the clothing, the regalia and the finery in full detail. Furthermore, one must not to forget the possible importance of fashion with its distinctive social virtues. This could lead to revealing such and such part of the body (one thinks, for instance, of the return of the exhibition of the male leg from Louis XIV onwards),

14 Artists 

235

to a deliberately incomplete buttoning, or to rather unexpected outfits (e.g. for ladies, a horsewoman gear or a negligee, and for dandies a silky dressing gown) with a view to shock and to make people talk. In any case, the art of bringing out a sort of ‘inner truth’ was to become more and more essential. Another parameter that should be taken into account is that of expressive posture (see Chap. 16), which can be fixed or aiming at a more ‘natural’ appearance. In many contexts, a hieratic attitude was compulsory, intending to convey an impression of solemnity. A lord, possibly accompanied by his family, could thus stand in front of his mansion, with a low horizon reinforcing the feeling of domination over his environment. At times, a column or wall-hangings at the edge of the portrait were considered sufficient to metonymically evoke a beautiful residence, or the lady of the house could hold a gorgeous animal (cf. next chapter). Fearing an excessively prim image, some elites ended up opting for a more relaxed look. One famous illustration of this is the contrapposto poise, with the weight resting on one leg, freeing the other which is bent at the knee. This is a much more lifelike way of representing the body. As a matter of fact, it was originated by the sculptors of ancient Greece, but a link can also be established with the dance step. More generally, the question arises as to what exactly dominant actors happen to do in paintings. Originally, in small-format artworks, faces were close framed, the individual being somehow self-sufficient. Later on, the introduction of prestige goods in the background or nearby was to strengthen the feeling of distinction. If a nobleman owned magnificent horses, he would obviously not fail to have them harnessed to his ceremonial carriage. However, asking a painter to represent them as well, was a way to further increase their gratifying presence. The same was true for all kinds of prestigious items, such as beautiful pieces of silverware or furniture. Moreover, it was common for eminent persons to be depicted in the middle of a glorious action, on the occasion of memorable events or in connection with their illustrious functions (e.g. an admiral against the background of the ocean, with his imposing ship sailing away). This prompts us to grasp various sorts of conventions liable to apply. Apart from a clever scenography slightly differentiating the protagonists from their enhancing entourage (I refer to what I said earlier on the

236 

J.-P. Daloz

subject), a modality that has long prevailed in pictures led artists to represent them in a much bigger size than the subordinates. This is an exhibition technique that can be found in Egyptian painting, Roman high reliefs or Chinese scrolls, for example: the pharaoh, the proconsul, the ‘son of heaven’ respectively dominating the whole scene thanks to their much superior scale. The apotheosis on ceilings constitutes yet another type of spectacular setting, playing on a feeling of transcendence. It is also important to look at conventionalised repertoires. In this respect, one of the most striking traditions concerns references to paragons of Christian history and an elitist insertion into sacred pictures. The transmutation of rulers into heroes or divinities of antiquity (Justinian into David, Emperor Leopold I into Hercules slaying the Hydra, the Bourbons into Olympian gods and goddesses, etc.) may seem acceptable enough given the cultural gap. However, the identification of wives, or even mistresses, with saints depicted in prayer at the side of Christ, and even as Madonna, is more disconcerting.9 Apparently, the intention here was to show off by appropriating the qualities (in this case the supreme piety) of the canonized. To be inserted into a devotional painting, be it as the figure of a donor, raises the complex question of the relationship of the elites to their religious beliefs.10 This consideration of cultural contexts invites us to pursue the matter of the interactions between sponsors and artists, but henceforth from the perspective of the initiatives taken regarding representation. I have in mind, first of all, some aspects having to do directly with ingredients of social distinction. Does the patron know exactly what he wants to put forward, and is the artist ready to fit all his expectations?11 Or is it the painter who mainly takes initiatives and gives advice in this respect, at the risk of very conventional and rather repetitive compositions? It seems that certain portraitists once conceived the habit of preparing their paintings during the winter months (sketching the silhouette of the landowners, the background according to the same basic structure), having only to paint the faces and insert some characteristic details once on the spot. Secondly, purely aesthetic aspects may come into play. A number of artists, beyond their role as painters, also acted as advisors for the constitution of collections. Members of the elites relied heavily on their supposed expertise, but could prove very knowledgeable themselves, as was

14 Artists 

237

remarkably the case, for instance, of some European rulers in the first half of the seventeenth century.12 During the next two hundred years, when it became more common to have one’s portrait made, a few individuals tried to keep abreast of the designs and codes in use (like those upper-­ class British amateurs who had been on the Grand Tour in their youth, and then assiduously visited the salons each year, priding themselves on their informed judgement). The result was that sittings could now have a very different tone: dominant social actors might show impatience with artists treated as mere subordinates momentarily under their sway, unless the painter’s notoriety rather impressed them and they complied with his prescriptions to a certain degree. As can be seen with the famous friendship between Marie-Antoinette and Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun, the relationship could prove very pleasant indeed, the latter’s ability to converse agreeably while painting being a source of entertainment for the queen. As for the ‘modern’ era, characterised by both a rapid renewal of lifestyles and the artists’ incessant desire to surpass themselves aesthetically, one wonders to what extent this could lead to a possible concomitance between the eagerness of some rising figures to demonstrate that they were in the vanguard, and the boldness of their portraits painted in a rushed manner.13 However, it is important not to fall into the cliché of opposing aristocrats with irredeemably traditional tastes and the upstarts who would enthusiastically embrace new creative trends. The study of the preferences of the nineteenth-century bourgeoisie in painting hardly allows for generalisations. Some sub-groups turned out to be very conservative, while others resolutely played the anti-academic card in order to distinguish themselves. A clear eclecticism is also noticeable at times. Thus, wives of the magnates of American capitalism could fancy being represented as distinguished figures of the past. For example, Mrs Dodge (the widow of the Detroit car manufacturer) commissioned a painting of herself as Madame de Pompadour from a painter capable of reproducing the Rococo style. However, when in Paris, this kind of immensely rich American women could acquire post-Impressionist paintings as well. Family portraits of the British aristocracy (by then often in great financial difficulty) were also coveted. Of course, these portraits did not have the same significance as for their former owners, who were immediately able to identify their glorious ancestors. With the exception of a few anecdotes about famous

238 

J.-P. Daloz

adventurers or women who had had many lovers (which were fun to tell to their guests), collectors across the Atlantic were usually unaware of who exactly was represented. What mattered to them was to accumulate ‘fine pictures’, in the sense of compositions with the aristocratic cachet they lacked, and as much as possible by famous artists (such as Gainsborough, Reynolds or Lawrence). Moreover, according to the art dealers of the time, it was imperative that the people exhibited be physically attractive!14 One realises how the distinctive quality of a portrait can be apprehended in many different ways. To be honest, it is not always easy to understand what works of art represent for some elites. As an illustration of this, one can only conjecture to what extent the purchase of extremely expensive contemporary productions is based on genuine predilections, speculative investments, or chiefly a desire to attract attention at auctions (even if most buyers tend to remain discreet). Whatever the case, we are dealing with a subject that leads to many avenues of research. They include, for instance, the issue of the visibility of paintings, whether they are purposely lined up in one’s reception rooms or managerial office (with famous signatures clearly legible), or bequeathed to a museum with great pomp. Another topic is that of serious intra-elite confrontations through artists (e.g. musicians), such and such a wealthy clan caring for their own protégé and despising rivals. I will have the opportunity to return to the thorny problem of meaning and some very paradoxical ways of expressing one’s distinction through paintings in the conclusion of the book.

Notes 1. Cf. Ph. Lowell Bowditch, Horace and the Gift Economy of Patronage, Berkeley: University of California Press, 2001. One could go back at least as far as Pindar, in the Hellenic world, and, in addition to Horace, mention Martial among others. I will dedicate a paragraph later to the case of Statius, which has been the subject of a remarkable analysis. 2. Cf. M. Warnke, L’artiste et la cour. Aux origines de l’artiste moderne, Paris: Éditions de la Maison des Sciences de l’Homme, 1989 (Chap. 5). 3. I refer here to M. & R. Wittkower, Born Under Saturn: The Character and Conduct of Artists, New York: New York Review Books, 2007 [1963],

14 Artists 

239

which is rather anecdotal but convincing, especially since it takes cultural cleavages into consideration; and to N. Heinich, L’élite artiste. Excellence et singularité en régime démocratique, Paris: Gallimard, 2005, on the later period. 4. Cf. C.H. Crowston, Credit, Fashion, Sex, op. cit. 5. E. Saunders, The Age of Worth: Couturier to the Empress Eugénie, London: Longman, 1954. 6. Cf. his article ‘Le pouvoir et ses représentations’, reprinted in Politiques de la représentation, Paris: Kimé, 2005. 7. Nothing Ordinary Here: Statius as Creator of Distinction in the Silvae, New York: Routledge, 2005. 8. Which raises the good question of their location (in an alcove, in the centre of a room, in a park…). 9. In addition to the well-known case of Agnès Sorel as a nursing virgin, a very funny example is the portrait of Barbara Palmer (Countess of Castlemaine), one of Charles II’s favourites, posing with their bastard son. This painting was to end up on the altar of a French convent, before which the nuns prostrated themselves daily. See J. Roach, It, Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 2007, p. 67. 10. I have shown in my theoretical writings that it would be a great mistake to generalise about this, sticking in particular to a cynical reading of religious ‘ideology’, and forgetting that the powerful are not necessarily above the codes they mobilise. 11. Van Dyck was thus able to satisfy the ostentatious taste of the aristocrats of Genoa, the desire for novelty at the English court and the much more reserved aspirations of the bourgeois of Antwerp. 12. I am thinking of the inclinations of Charles I and his British entourage, of Cardinal Mazarin, of some of Nicolas Poussin’s clients, of several popes of the time, and above all of Felipe IV in Spain who was such a great collector. See J. Brown, Kings & Connoisseurs: Collecting Art in Seventeenth-­Century Europe, Princeton: Princeton UP, 1995. 13. Cf. E. Munhall, Whistler and Montesquiou: The Butterfly and the Bat, New York: The Frick Collection, 1995. 14. I am relying here on the huge biography devoted by M. Secrest to the man still considered as the most famous art dealer of all times: Joseph Duveen. We are dealing with a fascinating universe, coming across a n ­ umber of illustrious paintings, members of the European high aristocracy, wellknown tycoons as well as a host of intermediaries, from informers to socalled experts, more or less talented restorers and forgers. Duveen: A Life in Art, Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2004 (cf. pp. 129 ff.).

15 Animals

These developments on the assertion of social superiority through the entourage would not be complete without some consideration of the role that animals can play in this respect. As providers of food, either directly (meat) or indirectly (milk, eggs, honey), of warm clothing, as a means of getting around with less effort or of carrying heavy loads, of ploughing fields, of making waterproof leather goods, candles, and as valuable helpers in guarding the house, eliminating rodents that threaten stocks, and for hunting, the list of animal contributions to human well-being is a long one. Regarding what concerns us more specifically here, some aspects aimed at expressing status have already been alluded to: notably in matters of adornment (furs, feathers, etc.), cooking, or in connection with vehicles. The ambition in this chapter will be to present and analyse the logics of display involved with respect to remarkable (useful or purely decorative) animals. Before that, however, some preliminary reflections on the complexities of the relationship between humans and animals are in order, whether what is at stake is to ostensibly assert one’s superiority towards them or to capitalise on their assets.

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 J.-P. Daloz, Expressions of High Status, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3_15

241

242 

J.-P. Daloz

Distinction from the Animal–Distinction Through the Animal Anthropology shows that, while there are communities which consider all living things as a ‘great whole’, assimilating plants and animals to people, others assign humans a unique position and establish a major divide between the two worlds. The comparative study of cultural imaginary (leading, for instance, to examine whether deities have a human or animal form, or are a mixture of both) proves most instructive on this point. There are beliefs, as in the case of animism or shamanism, that nurture mechanisms of integration with their surrounding environment. However, in those cultures which have established a radical break between humans and non-humans, the two universes are clearly differentiated. This is reflected, for example, in the existence of dissimilar words when it comes to designating body parts (leg/paw, mouth/maw, and so on). Tellingly, it appears that it is in areas (such as sexuality and eating) where the demarcation between man and ‘beast’ is the least obvious that the distinction must be made most emphatically. Hence, in many civilisations, the rejection of nudity, or even a high degree of uneasiness with fur. Likewise, the use of utensils (spoons, forks, or chopsticks), inducing a distanced relationship to food and a certain slowness of consumption, help to create a symbolic distance from the spectre of wild voracity.1 From a more sociological perspective, an interesting dimension in this kind of cultural context is that there is a tendency to use bestial references in order to belittle people perceived as crude, or very submissive. The challenge for individuals or groups at the bottom of the social ladder, or in dire straits, may then be to remind others of their human dignity.2 However, it is important to note that for the most dominated, animals can also represent a sort of outlet. Through a reversal of roles leading to a feeling of superiority, one becomes the master, with the right to give them orders, to make them obey, to exploit them, to bully them or worse. Animal studies frequently point out the age-old violence of entire populations towards them (donkeys beaten to death, small mammals tortured with impunity by children), which are sometimes ritualised (e.g. cats used to be thrown alive in bonfires on Midsummer’s Day) and a real

15 Animals 

243

enjoyment in attending shows where creatures humbler than oneself suffer and die. There would be a lot to be said here, from a socio-­psychological angle, about entertainment opposing men and animals (since the bullfighting of Minoan civilisation and the wild beasts involved in the Roman circus ‘games’ to contemporary corridas in Spain, France or Mexico). One obviously thinks about animals (of different or of the same species) forced to contend: bull baiting in the English fairs of yesteryear, and cockfights as well as mastiffs’ confrontations which are still quite common nowadays, often with unspeakable refinements of cruelty. I could equally mention the world of taming and, in particular, the fact of imposing actions on all sorts of animals (the dancing bear, the tiger having to pass through a flaming hoop, the elephant ordered to sit, or, more recently, the orcas trained to throw up objects) clearly showing the domination of man, to the great pleasure of crowds in many countries, it would seem.3 Conversely, however, there are also instances of humans having appropriated what symbolises the strength of certain animals for the purpose of distinction. Thus, on all continents, the leaders of some ‘traditional’ communities have been taking pride in presenting themselves adorned with the teeth, claws, skins or feathers of the most impressive predators within the area (such as lions, leopards, tigers, jaguars, bears, sperm whales and eagles). The question is whether this is done in order to highlight their ability to have bravely triumphed over fearsome creatures, conceivably, or if it is just a matter of acquiring (and possibly monopolise) their intimidating attributes. In any case, we are facing strong parallels between the hierarchy in the animal and human worlds.4 These parallels were generally based on rich systems of meaning which ethnologists and historians have tried to decipher. Among the Aztecs, for example, certain accoutrements of animal origin were supposed to terrify the enemy, or (as with jaguar skin capes) were so coveted that efforts were made to create fabrics imitating their appearance.5 These attributes could be used in a very directly evocative way. I have notably in mind the famous puma canine teeth inserted into the mouths of the priests from the Peruvian Chavin civilisation, as well as the bearskins worn by Roman, Viking or Sioux warriors. However, to echo what was said above about the necessary distance from the wilderness, they appeared more often than not in the form of artefacts (e.g. claw necklaces, shark-tooth clubs, carpets or blankets)

244 

J.-P. Daloz

introducing a relative distance from their source.6 Heraldry, and its schematised lions or eagles with their wings partially spread, constitutes a subsidiary theme worthy of interest here. Its aim was to capture the symbolism of impressive animals but according to representations that may look rather remote from the natural world.

The Possession of Noteworthy Animals Having said that, what lies at the heart of my thinking on vicarious display in relation to animals is obviously the keeping of living ones, liable to draw attention to their owner. Dealing with the subject, especially from a comparative perspective, requires consideration of many aspects. Animals can be rewarding because of their exotic character, their exceptional beauty, their famous talents, possibly in connection with activities particularly prized in certain circles. Selection and training are likely to come into play. Indeed, even if we are no longer conscious of it, given the fact that pets are now quite commonplace, the mere possession of creatures serving no other purpose than emotional and recreational ones (although they constantly demand care and feeding) used to be a sign of social distinction in itself. Individuals at the top have often sought to surround themselves with rare and amazing animals, whose singularity could be the subject of comment. In Rome, monkeys, fennecs and snakes were exhibited at dinner parties and owners took pride in them, just as they would boastfully display their unusual slaves. Later on, we know that many courts made it a point of honour to have a menagerie with all sorts of animals shown to illustrious visitors, possibly paraded about on certain occasions, and even sacrificed.7 The era of the first voyages around the world followed by that of the great empires contributed to reinforce the opportunities for acquisitions of wild animals. Culturally speaking, the constitution of collections of this nature was similar to that of cabinet of curiosities, essential for the notoriety of the major rulers. While this definitely involved the particular prestige of what came from afar, either as gifts or further to expeditions that had been sponsored, a symbolism of domination over what were perceived as dangerous beasts could also be witnessed at times.

15 Animals 

245

These logics of distinction have not disappeared.8 Quite frequently, however, the quest for impressive animals concerns mostly very young, harmless specimens. The Görings regularly requested newly born lions for their daughter, getting rid of them as soon as they reached the age of one, and it is still common in posh nightclubs or jet-set parties to be photographed with tiger or bear cubs being passed from hand to hand. The social spread of exotic animal ownership (Parisian innkeepers, for example, acquired parrots as early as the eighteenth century to attract customers) led the wealthy elite to obtain ever more spectacular species. The president of the parliament of Brittany thus had a sloth, and a prominent member of the French aristocracy a mongoose.9 There has also been a tendency to ‘humanise’ animals (e.g. dressing monkeys, getting them used to smoking) or to push them to perform feats in order to attract attention. In Japan, a helmeted cassowary brought by Dutch merchants (and considered as the most dangerous bird in the world, given its impressive leaps and claws) was reputed to be able to drink alcohol and swallow cartridges.10 In any case, it often appears that there was a desire to acquire the most marvellous or gifted animals, such as bilingual parrots, melodious singing nightingales and mynah birds. These are obviously long-­ standing, and not necessarily elitist, practices in some parts of the world. Nevertheless, it is important to realise that competition has frequently been involved, with a view to enhance the image of their owner. The performance of animals can result from natural dispositions, but also of course from training. Social distinction may indeed be based on both logics. Nietzsche makes a very good point in this regard when he evokes the aristocratic pleasure of having a proud and fiery horse do the Spanish walk or, on the contrary, of letting it run like crazy.11 In the second case, the rider is undeniably dominated by his mount, but nonetheless able to benefit symbolically from a feeling of unbridled power. Some statues and paintings tend to combine the two registers: that of the horse rearing up, most imposing, and yet perfectly under control. This kind of suspended movement, called ‘levade’ in the Iberian equestrian tradition, is difficult to maintain, but produces a stunning muscular tension. The ideal is to apparently achieve it with no difficulty, according to the above-­ mentioned logic of sprezzatura (applying here jointly to the animal and to the rider).

246 

J.-P. Daloz

Training leads to obedience and I am inclined to think that a well-­ behaved horse or dog, responding straight away to orders given may be a source of distinction. There is a certain similarity in this respect with the theme of the disciplined child, in the sense that all those around the predominant social actor are expected to confirm a general impression of ‘good behaviour’. However, there are nasty surprises at times. I have, for instance, in mind the amusing story of a parrot that had previously mixed with the wrong kind of people and suddenly let out ‘vulgar’ expressions in public, to the great shame of its new owner. Visible results in the performance of such and such an animal can be the result of the training of a keen master, who will often draw some pride from it. Specialised servants can also be involved (in the seventeenth century, the Princess of Condé had a ‘governor of canaries’, who was supposed to train them to remember tunes with the help of a flageolet). So are highly-paid professionals nowadays. From a cultural perspective, and in line with what was said about outposts on the edge of the wilderness (Chap. 3), the capture and subsequent domestication of certain species of local fauna was sometimes perceived as a sign of ‘civilisation’.12 This brings me to what is undoubtedly one of the most fascinating analytical aspects of the relationship between the animal and social distinction: selective breeding. Advances in the understanding of biological processes (after centuries of experimental trial and error in crossbreeding) contributed to boost the enthusiasm for triumphant, beautiful, or astonishing creatures. From a sociological point of view, what is remarkable is that the elitism of the preeminent categories can be applied to animals. I am thinking in particular of the homology between aristocratic beliefs and the obsession with pedigree. It is well known that the British nobility put a lot of energy in the quest for established lineage and purity of the breed. It is most revealing to observe significant parallels within specialised publications. The Fox-Terrier Chronicle, for example, used to draw up portraits of pedigreed dogs, biographies of deceased canine celebrities, and presented family trees. It also mentioned ‘visits’ to certain manors (a euphemism for mating) and even ‘debutantes’ (on the occasion of a first official presentation). This obviously conjured up the social life of their masters, whose illustrious names were referred to throughout.13

15 Animals 

247

The issue of selection, however, is less consensual than it might seem at first glance. Is it a question of giving primacy to qualities related to appearance or to performance (say, for hounds)? Above all, there has been considerable controversy about whether one should favour the preservation of ‘pure breeds’ in a conservative mode (with highly supervised, rigorously recorded ‘unions’) or one should embark on a quest for improvement and diversification, at the risk of a ‘loss of authenticity’, but with serious chances of commercial success. Performance can be evaluated in an indisputable, objective way (e.g. the number of victories of a racehorse, irrespective of its ancestry). The beauty of animals is more subjective, often due to a lack of precise criteria or to divergent predilections (for instance, should the ‘fleshy’ colour of a bulldog’s muzzle be considered an asset or a flaw). This was not without its problems during competitions, with the judges being sometimes inclined to award prizes to the animals of the socially most prestigious owners. However, the growing interest in breeding among the middle classes and the advent of associations with conflicting standards challenged the ideal of a clearly stratified order. From an aristocratic perspective, this universe is full of laughable but suggestive anecdotes, such as the claim that one’s Persian cats would have superbly ignored their ‘gutter’ subordinates met by chance. Nevertheless, there are also ‘class defectors’, like the collie, a common Scottish sheepdog, which was to become sufficiently esteemed to be adopted by Queen Victoria herself. A notable aspect here is the expression of views aiming at legitimising the species, whose virtues of courage, intelligence and calm are stressed, erasing its humble origins. The main focus so far has been on dogs and horses. However, many of the considerations that have just been stated could easily be applied to the avian world, to that of felines (often characterised by a preference for long-haired breeds, with the exception of Siamese) and more generally to those animals occupying a preponderant place within a civilisation: from camels to carp, for example. The Carassius auratus (goldfish) especially, is the object of an extreme infatuation in China and Japan. They provide a borderline case of distinction based on an unbridled search for variation that can reach incredible degrees of perversity. Abnormal specimens have thus been deliberately crossed, resulting in deformed creatures and sometimes in real monsters (such as those with protruding eyes or several tails)

248 

J.-P. Daloz

which are particularly prized. The Far-Eastern rejection of unrefined nature and a strong taste for aestheticization already alluded to (Chap. 8) can patently be found here, even leading to the use of acids to draw ideograms on the scales of carps kept in ornamented basins.14 Historically, interventions on the bodies of animals have been commonplace in China, as, for example, in the case of the Pekinese related to the quest for the tiny dog. This involved confining puppies to very small cages, moulding their soft cartilages or using drugs. The paradox is that such treatment was not incompatible with sincere affection, these unnatural animals being pampered like princes. Some Chinese emperors did award them official titles, entrusted them permanently to eunuchs, gave them top quality food and let them sleep on precious carpets.15 The theme of the outrageously spoiled little darling brings us to the important subject of the pet as a vector of distinction. This is a custom that goes back a long way. We need only think of Alexander’s extreme attachment to his Bucephalus, or the fact that pharaohs were often buried with their (mummified) dogs. In Rome, favourite animals could be covered with jewellery and were sometimes mourned when they died. On the other hand, during the medieval era, it seems that too much promiscuity with animals became suspect and frowned upon, with for example ecclesiastical authorities endeavouring to prohibit the presence of non-­ human companions in monasteries. It is the witch who is surrounded by beasts. However, the world of courts was to prove conducive to a clear resurgence of pet ownership, as can be seen in numerous paintings of illustrious figures. This could concern the sovereigns themselves. The image of Charles II’s famous little dogs, which followed him everywhere (and are still referred to as ‘King Charles Spaniels’) comes to mind. Historians show us how, in England, the gentry emulated the fashion which was to be more and more widespread during the nineteenth century. As was recalled at the beginning of this chapter, surrounding oneself with pets that have no use other than emotional may have long seemed incomprehensible outside of elitist circles. It was the fact of being closer to humans than to the wild world (but without falling into the category of domesticated animals destined to be consumed or to fulfil certain tasks) that contributed to their distinctive character. Here, a Veblenian

15 Animals 

249

analysis in terms of superfluity is pertinent and the American author did not fail to interpret the keeping of pets from the angle of ‘conspicuous consumption’. This type of reading is all the more convincing when the said animals are exceedingly adorned and pampered. Admittedly, due to the extreme trivialisation of the owning of animals, now most common even at the very bottom of society, it is much less obvious. Consider homeless people’s dogs or the attraction of young immigrants in Europe for pit bulls and rottweilers, given intimidating names as if to compensate for a low social image. What seems to prevail more often than not, however, is the desire to make up for a lack of tenderness and painful loneliness, especially in large cities where the pet boom has also been explained as an aspiration to reconnect with nature. The fact remains that the symbolic dimension is hardly in decline. Suffice it to think of the enormous sums of money spent on pets: from expensive food to high veterinary fees, even burial in specialised cemeteries (see Chap. 6) and taxidermy, without forgetting the luxurious accessories to be discussed below. Progressive American intellectuals never stop being offended by the tens of billions of dollars spent each year in the United States on such dear friends, while a significant part of the human population still lives in conditions of extreme poverty. It should be added that these small companions are often considered to belong to the women’s sphere, because they tend to be confined to indoor environments, but also because they are delicate, vulnerable, and in search of affection. As for ‘useful animals’, they would belong rather to the masculine realm, referring to outdoor occupations and a relative desire for mastery. These stereotypical representations are, of course, arguable. Yet it is important to understand how even fragile creatures are able to assert superiority because of their decorative character, the visual or aural pleasures that they can provide (as with those songbirds whose cage was temporarily moved to a tree, but hidden, on the occasion of a tea party given in the garden).

250 

J.-P. Daloz

The Showcasing of Animals This is all the more explicit when such creatures are associated with prestige goods liable to reinforce the impression of refinement. It would be tempting to propose an interpretation in terms of reaction here: the spread of pet ownership leading to embellishment, out of a need to stand out. We have seen that the fact of adorning animals is nothing new and goes back to antiquity though. Some Roman authors indeed wrote about dogs wearing scent or sharing their masters’ finest food, but perhaps there was a satirical dimension in these descriptions. In any case we are dealing with subtle logics of social distinction, implicating ‘accessories of the accessories’ so to speak. Analytically, I think it important to differentiate between two main types: those which, however sophisticated, maintain the animal in its position of dependent, dominated captive, and others which tend to move towards anthropomorphism. In the first category feature leashes, necklaces embellished with precious stones, gold chains used to attach small monkeys and parrots, as well as luxurious bells. The opulent harnesses of horses and the caparisons of elephants could also be included. All this leads us to reason in terms of visibility. Walking dogs in cities may provide an opportunity for ostentation, especially when the accessories (possibly leather or cashmere coats) match the owner’s outfit. In Manhattan’s residential areas, maids in uniform can be seen with greyhounds in a variety of trappings. We are faced here with an effective combination of vicarious displays. Cages and aquariums should be integrated into this first category. From my point of view, this is akin to the recurrent theme of the ‘exquisite box’ (cf. the introduction of Part I). The dazzling character of these ‘dwellings’ stems from the use of costly materials (cages with gilded bars, mahogany stables, kennels with enamel bathtubs and so forth), liable to contribute to the display of the animals as well as to the interior decoration of mansions. Elites have long tried to show originality and sophistication in this respect. Some birdcages, for example, are surprisingly elaborate, including little fountains, statuettes, small vases containing fresh flowers, copper plates for seeds and all sorts of pretty items based on

15 Animals 

251

a certain theme.16 Quite often, it is rather the exceptional size that will be likely to impress (as with giant aquariums or huge aviaries in the winter garden). We are once again dealing with the qualitative and quantitative dimensions of distinction, which can also concern, of course, the possession of a number of spectacular animals with slight variations, according to a logic of collection allowing one to highlight one’s knowledge. Treating the pet as a full member of the family prompts the mentioning of another type of relationship which, taken to the extreme, is also quite likely to contribute to the display of superior status. This brings us to the second category of accessories, those with anthropomorphic denotations (bearing in mind that since the 1970s there has been a growing tendency to attribute human names to pets in the Western world). In his memoirs, Nicolaus Sombart recalls how a Pekinese was given pieces of cake with a silver spoon.17 Here, the overall refinement of the house extends to the animal kingdom and concerns both the food and the manner of presenting it (in a measured way and using an expensive utensil), in imitation of the customs of the social milieu in question.18 As a matter of fact, many of the ways of achieving distinction discussed in this book can be applied to pets as well. Dogs may sleep on real beds in their own room, have a wardrobe, including boots and an umbrella, go to the groomer regularly, and enjoy tasty (though not necessarily healthy) food all year round.19 In some very wealthy families, the animals are even entrusted to a specific servant. It should be emphasised that behind the attempt to give a humanised appearance to pets, the cleaning of birdcages, the changing of litter boxes, or the picking up of dog droppings in the streets are not the least inviting, and it is understandable that these trivial chores are assigned to employees. A pleasing paradox is that some animals end up becoming much more attached to the person who takes care of them on a daily basis (and especially feeds them) than to their eminent master or mistress.

252 

J.-P. Daloz

Notes 1. A.  Faudemay, La distinction à l’âge classique, Geneva: Slatkine, 1992, pp. 94 ff. 2. The fear of being relegated to the level of animals is very much in evidence in times of serious crisis or armed conflict. I am struck by the fact that in many reports on the Middle East, refugees frequently state that they feel they are being treated ‘like dogs’. 3. The slow changes in attitude seem to concern mainly the ‘Western world’, hardly Asia, Africa or Latin America. As from the Enlightenment era, a reflection on the captivity of animals began to develop, in relation to the issue of political freedom. Cf. I.H. Tague, Animal Companions: Pets and Social Change in Eigtheenth-Century Britain, University Park: Penn State UP, 2015, a work which rightly points out, however, that meanings are not identical from one cultural context to another. 4. Such signs could also be obtained through gifts, exchanges or tributes, which were no less likely to emphasise the power and stature of the possessor (cf. Chap. 18). On the relationship between animal hierarchy and social order, see B.S.  Arbuckle & S.A.  McCarty (eds), Animals and Inequality in the Ancient World, Boulder: University of Colorado Press, 2014. 5. J. Olko, Insignia of Rank in the Nahua World, op. cit., p. 98. With regard to threatening appearance, reference should also be made to the mythological creatures (such as dragons) that used to be abundantly represented in Japanese fortresses, for example. 6. The stuffed animals that sometimes featured in the hats of high society women during the Edwardian era, or the fur accessories that retain the animal’s head, are more ambiguous in this respect. They would hardly be acceptable today. 7. A. Groom, Exotic Animals in the Art and Culture of the Medici Court in Florence, Leiden: Brill, 2018. This is a form of distinction that can be related to the conspicuous destruction of prized possessions, not unlike the famous ‘potlatch’ of the Native Americans of the Pacific coast. 8. One thinks, among other examples, of the wild animals of Colonel Gaddafi, of R. Kadyrov, but also the reserve that the Colombian drug trafficker P. Escobar prided himself on. At the beginning of the twentieth century, newspaper magnate W.R. Hearst (who served as the model for O. Welles’ Citizen Kane) owned the largest private zoo in the world.

15 Animals 

253

When you go up to visit his motley Californian castle, you can still see the descendants of the zebras he had acquired, grazing on the hills. 9. I refer here to L.E. Robbins’ rich book, Elephant Slaves and Pampered Parrots: Exotic Animals in Eigthenth-Century Paris, Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins UP, 2002. 10. M. Chaiklin, ‘Exotic-Bird Collecting in Early-Modern Japan’, in G.M. Pflugfelder & B.L Walker (eds), JAPANimals: History and Culture in Japan’s Animal Life, Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan, 2005, pp. 134 ff. 11. Quoted by J. Pieragnoli, in the epigraph to his book, La cour de France et ses animaux (XVIe–XVIIe siècles), Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 2016 (and taken from Aurora). I refer here especially to D. Roche, La gloire et la puissance. Histoire de la culture équestre XVIe–XIXe siècle, Paris: Fayard, 2011. 12. The same applied to the importation of bred animals from England into the American colonies. Cf. S. Hand Meacham, ‘Pets, Status, and Slavery in the Late-Eighteenth-Century Chesapeake’, The Journal of Southern History, 77/3 (2011), pp. 521–554. 13. This example, and what follows, draws in particular on developments in H. Ritvo, The Animal Estate: The English and Other Creatures in the Victorian Age, Cambridge, MA: Harvard UP, 1987. 14. This is reminiscent of the monograms made by the professionals in charge of shearing poodles, or of diamonds inlaid in tortoiseshell, which can also be gilded. 15. Y.-F. Tuan, Dominance and Affection: The Making of Pets, New Haven: Yale UP, 1984. 16. See K.C. Grier, Pets in America: A History, Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 2006 (Chapter 6). 17. Chronicles of a Berlin Youth, op. cit., p. 209. 18. An episode that seems to border on caricature, but which is nevertheless true, was that of a dinner given by a lord to his favourite dogs, each dressed up and having a footman appointed for the occasion. 19. On the other hand, there is now a movement that challenges the fact that ‘animality’ is increasingly being concealed and advocates respecting the ‘nature’ of the animals with which we surround ourselves. Generally speaking, this theme must be understood in the light of new sensitivities towards animals (anti-vivisection, anti-hunters’ organisations, veganism, and so forth).

Part IV Status-Related Interactions

The Study of Direct Confrontations A fourth dimension remains to be explored. Up until now, we have analysed modalities of distinction through elements that are, all in all, rather indirect. However, social superiority can also express itself in a much more frontal manner, during interactions clearly expressing hierarchies. It is through confrontation that everyone’s relative status will be defined here (to be conveyed by signs of respect or condescension, for instance, unless a climate of open rivalry emerges). It is one thing to harbour a claim to eminence. To put up a good show on the social scene, given the level of self-affirmation required, is quite another. What is at stake is to secure ascendency or at least to maintain a certain degree of recognition. The emphasis on interactions is not without controversy. Indeed it revives key debates in sociology. There is no doubt that the proponents of approaches focusing on inter-individual (or small group) relations have made enormous contributions to analysis. Following Goffman’s focus on the theatrical aspects of social life, and on strategies of self-presentation in particular, a large body of sophisticated research has been devoted to examining all sorts of situations. However, such a micro-perspective (often of psycho-sociological nature) has been duly criticised for giving

256 

Status-Related Interactions

the impression that ‘face work’ was redefined with each encounter, as if nothing pre-existed beforehand. For schools of thought that insist on the omnipresence of structures, ideologies or social representations, interactions are largely predetermined. Norms and languages are supposed to constrain them, leaving very little latitude. As far as distinction is concerned, the result is presumably routine and stereotyped behaviour, dependent on both prevailing conventions and the weight of past experience. The social class of ‘agents’ and their trajectories allegedly induce entrenched attitudes. Regarding bodily expressions, for example (which will be one of the major themes in this fourth part), authors following Bourdieu readily reason in terms of ‘hexis’, i.e. permanent dispositions revealing that one belongs to a certain stratum. Of course, modern macro-sociological thinking has moved towards less monolithic views, developing mixed models of interpretation. Some major theorists are still firmly convinced of the hold of the social order, but no longer necessarily reduce individuals (including those at the bottom of the ladder) to mere pawns.1 However, this leads to a dialogue of the deaf about what is more fundamental between the concrete interactions (even when they proceed from previous episodes having established power relations) and what is constantly looming in the background. A persistent bone of contention concerns the question of the more or less conscious nature of the mechanisms of social distinction at work. In the interactionist literature (which attaches great importance to symbolic elements), we often get the feeling that we are dealing with highly calculating social actors. They try to control the impression they project; to usefully stick to, or distance themselves from, certain roles; to influence situations according to what their interlocutors know or do not know about them, and so forth. Structuralists, for their part, argue that most men and women never fully grasp the logics involved. Only the researcher would be able to bring them to light. Hybrid models (in terms of ‘adaptability’, ‘figuration’ or ‘habitus’) may be seen as more refined, but they nonetheless still attempt to impose fixed reading grids believed to be universally applicable. From a comparative perspective, and after having examined contrasted realities on the ground inductively, one cannot but conclude

  Status-Related Interactions 

257

that there are cases where certain vectors of distinction are obviously the subject of intense reflection, and others where they seem almost spontaneous. It is equally possible to show how socio-historical dynamics (especially when they exacerbate symbolic competition) are likely to increase the level of awareness of them.2 As a result, it seems rather unconvincing to defend dogmatic assumptions in these matters. At the very least, we should not be prevented from investigating beyond the prejudices of such or such a school of thought. For example, with regard to the affirmation and confirmation of high status, it is important to take into account what (pre-existing) awareness interlocutors bring to the interaction, but also their acknowledgement of the superior status of others, and the degree of concentration at the uppermost rung.3 With these reservations, let us return to our ‘fourth dimension’. The observation of face-to-face encounters is often meaningful for the analyst of distinction. A myriad of clues unfold. It is crucial to spot them and to know how they must be interpreted. Thus, the slightest movements of the body can prove highly significant and should be fully apprehended. Generally speaking, interactions often have clarifying virtues. They inform us about the positioning of the protagonists in relation to each other. We can detect messages of superiority consciously or unconsciously sent, as well as attitudes that betray a feeling of inferiority. However, manifestations of this kind need to be contextualised. This presupposes a good understanding of the codes involved, which may be quite contradictory. Indisputably, a cultural perspective is absolutely essential here, even more than in other sectors. We will see this through three themes: that of bodily attitudes, that of precedence and, finally (perhaps less expectedly) that of gift giving.

Notes 1. Elias, Giddens, and even Bourdieu have contributed to these shifts, even if the scale is tipped in one direction or the other. 2. For developments on the subject, I refer to my book Rethinking Social Distinction, op. cit. (Chapter 8). 3. Among other variables. Ibidem (Chapter 2).

16 Telling Bodily Attitudes

I must now return to the theme of the body, but this time from the point of view of gestures and postures liable to express hierarchies during interactions. In this domain, if marks of deference often make sense for the social actors involved, and indeed for most observers, many codes prove quite subtle and difficult to grasp. The subject has given rise to popular works claiming to reveal ‘body languages’ and aiming to provide advice on how to decipher the behaviour of others as well as how to present oneself (for propriety or distinction purposes). That said, the scientific literature has tended to reject this linguistic analogy because of the rather unstructured nature of what was to be apprehended. Since the 1950s, scholars have found it preferable to speak of ‘non-verbal communication’ (which may concern not only the assertion of superiority, but, of course, many other aspects as well). There are still fundamental disagreements among researchers on these issues. The post-Darwinian academic tradition views attitudes of dominance and submission from a universalist perspective, along the lines of what can be observed amongst various animals. For instance, visual analysis of the physical confrontations between young boys around the world arguably reveals pan-cultural behaviour. It has also been demonstrated that

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 J.-P. Daloz, Expressions of High Status, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3_16

259

260 

J.-P. Daloz

many animal strategies aimed at impressing (in order to intimidate or seduce) had their human equivalents. There are nonetheless specialists who emphasise instead the existence of widely varied patterns. As a matter of fact, whether we consider gestures (involving movements), positions (that are ephemeral, but affect the whole body), postures (much more stable), or even (deliberately static) poses, differences are clear. We know that this may cause serious misunderstandings.1 Consequently, if the ambition here will be to detail how bodily attitudes contribute to signifying eminence, it is also to show how these kinds of manifestations reveal a real diversity of scenarios.

Expressing Ascendancy Via the Body Studying contextual clues from this angle leads us to take into account purely instinctive reactions as well as very pondered gestures; conventional registers as well as rather original styles; a deeply rooted ‘hexis’ as well as endless metamorphoses according to situations. Among the identifiable configurations, none are more visibly indicative of an asymmetrical relationship than those that play on height. One notably thinks of those greetings where inferiority is instantly translated by a respectful bow, and superiority by the maintenance of body verticality, or at least by a lesser reciprocity. What is fascinating to observe is the gradation of possible attitudes (often rich in underlying meanings), ranging from the slightest nod to prostration, with in between all sorts of bending, curtseys or kneeling. It would be wrong to assume that acute forms of self-­ depreciation expressed at the beginning of interactions are no longer used today.2 In some contexts, the similarities with prayer postures are quite striking, although it should be pointed out that in the eyes of orthodox Muslims, for instance, full prostration must be reserved for Allah. It is essential to approach these issues from both dynamic (movement-­ inducing) and static perspectives. However, as we shall see later, particularly in relation to standing/seated positions, the dialectic can prove quite complicated in so far as it involves contradictory codes.

16  Telling Bodily Attitudes 

261

Below such extreme dramatizations, the bodily attitudes of prominent social actors are liable to send a plethora of messages that are more or less detectable by the uninitiated, but contribute all the same to a general impression of superiority. If these signals tend to reinforce each other, it is analytically interesting to dissociate them, which leads us to consider various parts of the body in turn. Given its volume and central location, the chest is probably one of the most obvious. For men, a protruding torso with shoulders backwards, is spontaneously perceived in terms of poise.3 Slouching, on the other hand, is readily interpreted as a sign of sloppiness or a lack of self-confidence. Some sociologists insist on the importance of uprightness (literally) for the dominant strata, while the humility possibly instilled, but also the burden of strenuous physical activity, may end up causing a sagging of the body among members of the working classes (unless this is a statement of rebellion, as with the deliberate slumping of certain pupils). Seen from the rear, the middle section of the body is potentially significant as well. Ape specialists understand the ability to turn the back as a key statement of the self-assurance of the alpha male, who appears to have nothing to fear. In many human cultures, however, it would be considered as an expression of contempt. This explains the imperative to always walk backwards, respectfully, after hearings in court societies, although it is still relatively expected that you will turn your back when it comes to concealing any act deemed improper. I find the positioning of the upper limbs particularly instructive to analyse because it makes us realise how essential slight shifts may be. It is commonly thought that outstretched arms are a sign of openness while crossed arms are one of closure; but the appraisals prove more problematic when it comes to hands at the sides or behind the back. To stick to our question of bodily expression of eminence, one hand on the waist and the second casually resting on a support of some sort is a classical pose in elitist portraits, conveying a kind of nonchalant dignity. However, both hands, and even more so both fists, on the hips clearly indicate an attitude of defiance. This is, for example, the posture of ‘Fearless Girl’, the famous sculpture facing the Wall Street bull in New York. It is a rather unusual pose for women, as it entails having the legs firmly spread. In restaurants of a certain standing, waiters usually hold a forearm over their

262 

J.-P. Daloz

loins, a convention suggesting the reserve expected in their function. As for the two hands behind the back, they convey a sense of vulnerability because the chest is left completely undefended. This is, for instance, the posture of the soldier ‘at ease’ (in a less rigid attitude than were he standing at attention), or that of the ball girl at the rear of the tennis court. However, the very same posture combined with strolling, and the torso bent forward, would rather communicate a feeling of determination. Likewise, the hostess’s open palm, with her arm not fully extended, signifies that she is gently showing you the way, whereas the energetic gesture of the arm perpendicular to the body and pointing a finger at something would demonstrate strong authority. These illustrations reveal how mere inflections can radically change the nature of a message and the impression made. The same cannot be said of the positioning of the lower limbs, generally deciphered in terms of ‘stretching out’ versus ‘curling up’. Feminist literature emphasises the contrast between the male posture consisting in spreading out the legs and thus establishing a hold on space, with the tendency of women to fold them up, as if they were unconsciously trying to make themselves as small as possible.4 The lover of nineteenth-century novels (by Dickens, for example), and even of eighteenth-century ones, knows that this kind of observation has long been made by writers, but rather in reference to the social level. Accordingly, the symbolic significance of feet turned inwards or outwards was recognised very early. Henry James, the major proponent of transatlantic comparisons, liked to contrast the fairly ‘loose’ postures of Americans with those of Europeans.5 At the time, given the fullness of dresses and the fact that the ladies’ lower limbs remained concealed, the question of withdrawal was hardly an issue for them. However, feminist authors are justified in stating that the subsequent unveiling of the legs would happen to be a rather ambiguous ‘liberation’ because of the new constraints involved. Moreover, the range of permissible attitudes would be much more limited than in the male sphere. Thus, the so-called ‘4’ figure (one ankle on the opposite knee) is rarely observed among women, even in trousers. Furthermore, the propensity to remain in the same position for a long time is regularly interpreted in terms of self-restraint, whereas frequent shifts, an obvious lack of tension,

16  Telling Bodily Attitudes 

263

and even some swaying (but not the trembling betraying nervousness), are asserted as one of the major indicators of the dominant person’s relaxation. Taking into account non-Western postures, or women at the top level of the career ladder, seriously complicates the analysis, however. Perhaps more than the rest of the body, the head is a multi-expressive vector of signs of superiority. In addition to its general orientation (and notably the well-known role of the lifted chin), the face, the voice, and above all the gaze are concerned. Regarding the face, many of the preliminary considerations introduced at the beginning of this chapter clearly apply. The face is believed to reflect inner emotions, and it is commonly believed to be more truthful in revealing feelings than words (for instance, in case of blushing or sudden pallor). This is why the ability to control one’s facial emotions has long been a crucial issue in elite circles. For the social actor who is constantly ‘on stage’, the classical metaphor of the mask proves very relevant (both in the sense of what conceals you and that of artifice). Hence, the possible use of dark glasses. It is also important to be competent in decrypting the often extremely fleeting facial expressions of others. Let me emphasise the fact that what we are talking about here is no longer the physical appearance (i.e. the features) of the face, but the changing countenance liable to communicate all sorts of messages.6 In the 1970s, this theme was to crystallise the major debates alluded to above: cultural relativism vs. universalistic models; the tactical understanding of ‘face’ as opposed to the basic premise of unconscious mechanisms; and the split between ‘biological’ approaches (perpetuating the classic image of ‘face as a mirror’) and sociological analyses (seeing it mainly as an instrument helping dominant individuals to control dominated ones). Similar disagreements can be found in relation to vocal aspects. The intention is, of course, not to return to linguistic dimensions of distinction, nor to the modalities of self-affirmation during conversations (dealt with in Chap. 10), but to reflect on the voice as such. However, even when thus considered in isolation, this element gives rise to much controversy. For instance, is the presumed softness of the female one a matter of vocal cords or of conditioning?7 And to what extent can we establish correlations between its vigour and social class? One thinks of the almost virile voice of the strong, plebeian woman, found so repellent in the

264 

J.-P. Daloz

higher spheres. Both biologists and psycho-sociologists have in any case demonstrated that intonation can be closely dependent on interactions. It is well known, for example, that a certain degree of sexual excitement is likely to distort it, or that speaking quaveringly is often linked to stress. From the point of view of social distinction, three major scenarios are identifiable, I think. First, we have the powerful and authoritative voice of the person accustomed to give orders. However, paradoxically, the fact of never raising one’s own may also be interpreted as a sign of self-assured superiority; but which behaviour should be adopted in case of a serious challenge? Thirdly, a very broad vocal register (such as that of the well-­ trained orator in ancient Rome) allows this organ to be used most effectively according to situations. Let us now turn to what undoubtedly is the most fascinating aspect of bodily expressions of superiority. I mean the gaze. This will be discussed in two steps. I will provide an initial overview of the complex nature of the social signals liable to be transmitted through the eyes. Then, in the second section of the chapter, I will pay attention to striking cultural disparities. The most basic way to approach the subject is to consider the interaction between one person staring at another who immediately lowers his/her eyelids or head. Take this ubiquitous scenario the city streets. Men try to meet women’s eye, apparently appreciating them (in both senses of the word) whereas the latter instantly look down or away. It would be much too simple to reason merely in terms of domination. Not looking back can be a sign of submission in some cases, but it can also refer to the fact that one completely disregards others, which tends to reverse the balance of power altogether. This kind of scene takes place against the background of the prevailing prescription (at least in ‘modern’ societies) not to scrutinise strangers excessively in public places. It is even more obvious in very tiny spaces, such as elevators, where civility dictates that one should keep as far away as possible from one’s temporary neighbours and avoid staring at them. Another way of introducing the subject is to examine eye contact between acquaintances, especially in a conversational situation. In this case, politeness lies in the attention paid to the person who is speaking. Many psycho-sociological studies have measured the duration and intensity of eye contact, both when speaking and listening to others.

16  Telling Bodily Attitudes 

265

Well-­known phenomena such as turning one’s head slightly away, or inward when thinking (in view of the functioning of the brain’s hemispheres) are taken into account. More important for what concerns us is the degree of attentiveness shown towards the individual in front of us. A low level of attention may reflect a feeling of superiority and disinterest, but it is also a possible symptom of intense rivalry. Conversely, a strong investment in the visual relationship may be an indication of deference or a search for affection, unless it is a matter of ‘looking daggers’ at somebody. Eye contacts become even more complicated when a third person comes in, possibly sending non-verbal messages of agreement or disapproval (nods, and so forth) in favour of one of the interlocutors. Finally, one must analyse the sequences of visual interaction among entire groups, be it in a context of confrontation or not. Here, it is sometimes essential not to neglect anyone, as in the case of those speakers who tirelessly scan the room with their eyes. Specialists equally underline that it is crucial for the leading figure to have an overlooking position. In this regard, sitting at the end of the table has been interpreted as a way to better monitor those present. This issue of the field of vision is by no means insignificant. Conversely, we know that lateral positioning does not facilitate exchanges (this is, for example, the configuration of the bar, which requires you to contort yourself when starting a conversation). Nevertheless, as I pointed out when considering the symbolic dimensions of surrounding oneself with others vs. isolation, what often proves important, above all, is the (relative) physical separation of the protagonist. In summary, when it comes to expressing superiority, there are two major orientations. On the one hand, an inquisitive attitude involving defiantly and insistently staring may possibly proclaim a certain degree or aversion or at least the desire to challenge them. On the other hand, one can communicate a sense of absolute indifference, as if those from whom one intends to distinguish oneself were actually non-existent or, as can be felicitously said in French, ‘transparent’. These are visual manifestations that ethologists have also detected in some animals. However, we shall see that taking into consideration cultural cleavages leads to a much wider impression of heterogeneity. Before proceeding with my usual ‘perspectivism’ in this respect, one last significant point is in order, which is overall harmony. Since antiquity,

266 

J.-P. Daloz

it has become apparent that an imposing style presupposes a true complementarity, and in particular a good articulation between rhetoric and gestures. For Cicero and Quintilian, who wrote extensively on the oratorical art, this was a major concern, even if it did not easily lend itself to theorisation. Modern scientific disciplines have continued to reflect on the subject, including the neurosciences which tend to address the problem from the perspective of an indivisible mental process. Political scientists, for their part, have been able to establish how such and such a gesture serves or does a disservice to speeches. Antinomic attitudes are examined, as well as involuntary bodily signs that seem to run counter to some others, leading to incongruous and dubious combinations. Aside from scientific treatments, an important question concerns the competence of both the social actors striving to confer an image of superiority and those listening to them. To a large extent, the painted or photographic portraits of yesteryear made it possible to control the pose (on the initiative, as we have seen, of the artist or the client represented). This is not the case in everyday life, where possible perceptions of dissonance, even when they are not clearly interpreted, are likely to make a bad impression.

Contradictory Codes As with other domains studied here, the analysis has suffered greatly from reductive readings based on one-sided views. Apart from genetic hypotheses (of course not synonymous with immutability, but which nonetheless limit the range of possibilities), I have in mind the Foucauldian and Eliasian approaches. Michel Foucault, as a thinker of the micro-­regulations of power and discipline, insists on the mechanisms of bodily restraint and their contribution to subordination. Norbert Elias, on the other hand, sees self-control as a key element in the process of civilisation and as what makes possible, for example, the orderly coexistence of many pupils in the same classroom for hours on end. Far from such abstract generalisations, some anthropologists and psycho-­sociologists have been attentive to substantial disparities. There are contexts in which kissing in public (on the cheeks or forehead, mouth,

16  Telling Bodily Attitudes 

267

hand, etc.) is omnipresent or, on the contrary, a source of disgust (for instance, in India), or even amazement because it is completely unknown (as in Tonga before the arrival of Europeans). The handshake remains infrequent in England or the United States, except on a first encounter. It is brief in the Western world, but interminable in some parts of the world, moderately firm or most virile. Its meaning has evolved a lot: from a gesture that commits you to a banal greeting ritual. Similarly, the codes of smiling in Japan, depending on the person you are talking to (never in front of a superior, except in the case of a rebuke, but all the time with customers), provide a good entry point to bring clear contrasts to light. It should be added that historians endeavour to revive many forgotten gestures. Admittedly, there are also some that have crossed the centuries and spread far beyond their place of origin, such as the thumb(s)-up or the index finger on the lips. Concerning bodily attitudes, we may start from a relatively simple typology. A number of them seem universal: for instance, the lateral oscillation of the head to signify rejection (one hypothesis being that this is the reaction of a satiated baby who no longer wants to suck). Others are less frequent, but understandable by a foreigner.8 Finally, quite a few make little sense to someone who does not master the native codes. Factors of complexity stem from the subtle nuances of certain gestures and from the symbolic aspects of what is meant locally. For example (to refer to previous developments), removing what enhances your status, as a mark of respect, can be done in very different ways. Taking off one’s hat may consist of lifting it briefly or bringing it to the ground with a wide movement. It is possible to barely touch it, as does the dominant person desirous to show a minimum of deference or the employee who mechanically nods to an order with a brief motion of the index and middle fingers towards his cap. Here we come back to the essential debates about the calculated or routine nature of gestures, but also on social distinction as related to a perfect knowledge of propriety. In some court societies, one was expected to bow in reverence before the sovereign’s empty throne or bed, as well as his portrait, and even a letter from him, whenever his name was mentioned, or when one passed servants carrying the dishes for his meal. An incomplete grasp of the rules would inevitably lead to ostracism. However, etiquette could become terribly complicated depending

268 

J.-P. Daloz

on the circumstances and the people present. I will return to this in the next chapter. What is central to my argument is that the expression of superiority through the body often follows fundamentally divergent orientations. In this respect, I would like to give five illustrations whose logics of meaning must be clearly understood and analysed. The first concerns the question of immobility. It is most disconcerting to realise that if this posture may happen to enhance an image of omnipotence, it is also frequently associated with inferiority. Historians and anthropologists have noted the formal impassivity of the emperor, the king or the Mikado, in Byzantium, Bali and Japan respectively. In public, they used to remain absolutely unperturbed like statues, even when faced with eager solicitors. This hieratic attitude was often coupled with a fixed gaze and an ‘impenetrable face’ that did not allow any feelings to show through. It must be said that in certain Asian cultures, the sovereign being the spiritual embodiment of the kingdom, a strict immobility was understood as both the expression and the guarantee of its necessary harmony.9 To a lesser extent, the ability of a Felipe IV to make only the tiniest gestures during long audiences was to impress a lot of visitors to the Spanish court, especially as the peoples of southern Europe have a reputation for being quite rowdy. The symbolic effectiveness of immobility is remarkable and some would tend to interpret it in terms of ‘self-control allowing one to control others’, or in relation to the quiet confidence of the predominant actor (not unlike the great ape leader of the group, most serene in the midst of his fellow creatures who are constantly on the alert). However, it must be acknowledged that the frozen pose can equally be the fate of the subordinate. It is that of the soldier facing his officer or standing sentry, and that of the servant ready to respond with due haste to any request. The obligation to keep one’s body inanimate (but also sometimes tense) signals dependence, in a posture of perpetual expectation, which is well reflected in the terms ‘waiter’ or ‘lady-in-waiting’. The inertia being required is all the more striking when it is perceived in sharp contrast to the liveliness of people enjoying complete freedom of movement around them. While the upright servant is almost reduced to the status of a mere object, the energy expanded by hosts and guests, or even just a very relaxed attitude, tend to become a sign of superiority. Apart

16  Telling Bodily Attitudes 

269

from such extreme examples, which were purposely chosen, I could mention the exuberant attitude of the nobility of the sword compared to the much more composed attitude of the nobility of the robe; a certain reserve following the Protestant reformation or the measured gestures of the Chinese Mandarin as opposed to the colourful agitation of the Arab warrior (to take up a Weberian observation). It is therefore appropriate to think in terms of cultures, or functions, that encourage either impetus or restraint.10 In the same vein, and this will be my second illustration, the study of gait leads one to realise that there are several ways of expressing one’s superior status here, and that these correspond to rather contradictory codes. In reading both the prescriptive and scholarly literature, I am struck by the fact that some authors seem to be aware of one facet only. The task of the comparativist is, of course, to provide a more complete picture. What first comes to mind is the determined step of the very self-­ confident person. Historically, the valuing of a brisk walk possibly dates back to the attitude of the Greek warrior who intended to prove his courage by resolutely engaging the enemy. However, with the advent of the phalanx, this logic of assertion lost its raison d’être. Later, in modern armies, soldiers were supposed to act in concert, and even to march in a synchronised way. On the other hand, Veblen (in line with his thesis of the ‘leisure class’) draws attention to the slow pace of members of the elite during the ‘Gilded Age’, as if they wanted to indicate that they had plenty of time at their disposal. In fact, this kind of attitude can be traced back to antiquity, whether it was a matter of showing a certain gravitas or of cultivating otium. Only slaves were doomed to restlessness, to hurrying day and night (NB: a recurrent theme indeed in Roman comedies). A measured gait is the prerogative of the free man. Castiglione, during the Renaissance, was of the opinion that the courtier should avoid appearing to hurry like a servant, but he also disapproved of any excessive slowness. Ladies were usually expected to take small steps and we know that they glided, rather than walked, over the polished floors of European palaces. Ray Birdwhistell, the founder of kinesics (one of the disciplines that deal with body motion behaviour), makes a most welcome relativistic remark in the appendix of one of his books, when he notes that in Arab countries,

270 

J.-P. Daloz

moving gracefully for women means doing so ‘like a chicken’ and in India ‘like an elephant’.11 The strong opposition between such alternative modes of distinction, thus taking into consideration both the length of the strides and the speed, is far from exhausting the subject. American psycho-sociologists examining the obvious differences from one subculture to another in the United States have taken an interest, for example, in the provocative bounce of the ‘black walk’, intended to be the opposite of the ‘uptight’ stride of the whites, with a view to project an image of cool poise. Furthermore, it is not irrelevant to study how twosomes, or larger groups, tend to adjust to the tempo set by the dominant person. My third illustration concerns the hierarchy of postures. Let us take the case of a speaker standing up before an audience at her feet. She is, of course, in a prominent position due to her relative domination reinforced by theatrical dimensions, such as the fact that she is the one speaking and being listened to, that she is on a lighted stage while the audience sits quietly in semi-darkness on their well-ordered seats. Yet there are many social situations in which the standing people are obviously those in a position of inferiority. One need only think of the employee staying like this in front of a manager seated behind his desk. There is something a little bit disconcerting about this apparent inconsistency. However, it is related to the interference of two principles: one that has to do with verticality and the other with stability. Not dominating the scene (physically) does not necessarily create a symbolic disadvantage, as a seat may connote authority, a kind of institutionalised superiority.12 Besides, let us not neglect the fact that it allows one to conserve energy. I am thinking here of Napoleon playing chess for hours under the gaze of his entourage, enjoined to remain standing, some of them being on the verge of fainting, it is told. Now, the dynamics of the interaction often lead to an unambiguous understanding of the actual nature of the relationships and the manifestation of higher status. I have evidently in mind the requirement to stand up when an important person enters a room. Standing respectfully seems to convey both a certain solemnity and a sense of putting oneself at the disposal of the dominant individual by leaving a comfortable position. Conversely, remaining seated when approached sends a clear message of

16  Telling Bodily Attitudes 

271

pre-eminence. However, once again, we must be careful not to be excessively Eurocentric. In Rhodesia, in the early colonial phase, it was not a matter of course for the summoned native to stand before an officer in his chair. He was instinctively inclined to fall prostrate. In those cultures that had no experience of the chair, the expected posture in front of the master of the house has long been that of kneeling, like the maid setting out the dishes on a low table in the Far East. On the Indian subcontinent, the question as to whether (and if so where) servants should sit is still raised at times.13 The reclining position of the Romans, especially at festive dinners, is noteworthy here in that it connects several of the aspects considered above. It was the ostensibly relaxed station of the host and his guests that did underline their superiority, while the slaves fussed around them.14 Such a configuration could also be represented on funerary monuments. It is interesting to observe in this respect that the arrangement chosen for eternity can be either seated, standing or lying down. I should conclude this passage on the hierarchy of postures by pointing out that while we are largely dealing with contrasts, there are equally instances where a whole group shares the same position. This is, for example, the case of the cocktail party, which does not preclude sitting down temporarily, however. The theme of touch provides another significant illustration. This is the subject of haptics, a mainly psycho-medical discipline that approaches it as a fundamental need, the lack of which (especially in young children) can cause serious problems. Being able to touch someone implies a relative proximity. This is why analyses in this area are connected to another branch, playing a major role in the study of bodily attitudes: proxemics. This academic field considers the use of personal space, and in particular the distance maintained between human beings. Its promoter, Edward T.  Hall, has shown that in some cultures physical proximity is plainly favoured, whereas that would make men and women belonging to many others quite uncomfortable. Consequently, for example (as has been documented in filmed experimentations), Latin Americans tend to unconsciously move closer to North American interlocutors while the latter are constantly moving back in order to maintain their culturally determined idea of appropriate social distance. Research on touching also leads to

272 

J.-P. Daloz

consider which parts of the body are likely to be involved between people of the same or different sexes, as well as a whole range of behaviours (hugging, caressing, tickling, grabbing, pinching, hitting, and so forth). Each culture appreciates what is tolerable or not, in this respect. This is most relevant here because the ability to touch others can prove to be a clear expression of power relations, an individual of higher status being more likely to use it towards those perceived as subordinate. In many ‘modern’ societies, the prevailing code is never to touch a stranger without his/her consent. If one inadvertently brushes against someone, apologies usually ensue. Nonetheless, in social life formal contacts (such as handshake) are anticipated and acceptable, and may even involve a certain degree of intimacy.15 A familiar gesture, quite common with children, is to pat them on the cheek or lightly grasp their ear between the thumb and forefinger: an ambiguous behaviour indeed, communicating both tenderness and domination. We know that Napoleon used to pinch deserving soldiers of his Imperial Guard, as well as, sometimes, the noses of pretty women. Two centuries earlier in England, James I enjoyed smearing the face of his hunting companions with the blood of the stag that had just been killed, forbidding them to remove it afterwards. In both cases, interpretations in terms of transgressions clearly expressing power over others are no doubt in order. More commonly, manly pats on the back between friends or colleagues (supposedly to convey encouragement and support) may underline disparities in their status—a certain asymmetry speaking for itself. Relatively similar gestures may have entirely different meanings. There is quite a gap between putting your hand on your partner’s shoulder (as a sign of possession or protection) and offering your arm to her all day long. Contact may also involve clothing. In the past, caressing a silky outfit, if not the skin, could prove to be a euphemistic form of touch. Some gestures were infinitely more brutal, however. I am thinking of those masters violently tearing off their maid’s fancy headdress or a native’s hat during the colonial period, judging that the latter had no right to these attributes. To take it out on the finery of others in such a way was as much a blow to their physical integrity as grabbing or punching them.

16  Telling Bodily Attitudes 

273

Still considering contradictory codes, but this time from a bottom-up perspective, I would point out that approaching the bodies of members of the elite can be utterly unthinkable or quite anticipated. One of the most spectacular examples of the first case is certainly that of some Polynesian chiefs who were treated as holy. The places where they had just set foot were taboo and had to be avoided at all costs. Not even the shadow of another person could cross theirs. That is why they were preceded by heralds announcing their arrival, urging everyone to prepare themselves accordingly.16 In Europe, the mere representations of the prince were often deemed sacred, and to touch them was a crime of lese-majesty. In stark contrast to such illustrations, there are contexts in which the omnipotence of the dominant actor is expressed by the fact that subordinates hasten to embrace him. The Polish peasant was thus supposed to assiduously kiss his master’s hands and even his feet in a dramatic way evoking the Catholic repertoire. Similarly, in certain clientelistic systems, it is expected that the dependents embrace the legs (i.e. a lower part) of their ‘boss’ and rest their head against them. Such an overflow of affection can paradoxically be seen as a resource for the followers, more or less obliging the leaders to accommodate their demands. It is reminiscent of the ‘symbolic violence’ of the beggar clutching at a passer-by to try to get a penny out of him. In between these borderline cases, we can spot some where touching members of the elite is possible, but in a very ritualised and mediated way (e.g. kissing the ring of religious dignitaries), while the reverse is rare, with a few exceptions however. Let us remember that French and English monarchs used to touch their subjects suffering from scrofula. Democratically elected presidents may shake the hands of selected citizens, and it does happen that music stars make contacts with the fans in the front row. As a fifth illustration, I would like to return to the issues of gaze. In the general introduction, it was pointed out that in some cultures it is understood that a reprimanded individual should keep his or her eyes down, but that in other environments this would be interpreted as insolence. The messages liable to be sent through this kind of attitude are part of clearly divergent established codes. In many societies, rules in this area are instilled in children at a very early age, but they turn out to vary widely from one culture to the next. Quite commonly (from sub-Saharan Africa

274 

J.-P. Daloz

to the Far East, for example), one is never supposed to stare into another’s eyes, as this is deemed threatening or insulting. Young Japanese are taught to look at their elders no higher than the neck. Nigerians and Ethiopians turn their gaze to the ground as a sign of respect to anyone of upper status. In some cultures (in North America and the Arab world, among others), however, systematically avoiding eye contact is perceived as rude. For the Tuareg, the face being largely concealed, meeting the gaze of one’s interlocutor is especially important and is indeed considered indispensable. Hence the anthropological distinction between ‘contact cultures’ and ‘non-contact’ ones, which also concerns the issues of interpersonal distance and touching discussed above. Studies have shown that Scandinavians, who tend not to stare, may feel ill-at-ease in southern Europe, while Italian or Greek women experience the opposite discomfort in northern Europe, as they are under the impression that everyone looks away from them. Obviously enough, sexual connotations may be involved, associated to ogling erogenous zones or to the possible implications of a visual exchange. This does not mean that we should reduce the comparative analysis to simple dichotomies (following the structuralist tradition). Rather, research on these issues in relation to manifestations of superiority leads to an awareness of fairly subtle variations. There is a range of attitudes in between staring a person of authority straight in the eye and keeping one’s own gaze constantly lowered. It is also possible to leave the initiative to the dominant person and, in case of interest, to briefly meet his/her gaze without trying to sustain it impudently. Finally, it should not be forgotten that in many circumstances (including the great staging of social eminence), what is expected is the most intense attention.

Notes 1. A raised arm with the palm of the hand turned towards the other person can be a welcoming greeting or a signal to stop immediately. If the fingertips happen to touch the palm, I know from experience that it means ‘Come here’ in Nigeria, but ‘Goodbye’ in Scandinavia. Tapping your temple with your index finger while looking at someone may indicate that you think s/he is foolish or remarkably intelligent.

16  Telling Bodily Attitudes 

275

2. In West Africa, for example, I have witnessed spectacular prostrations with outstretched arms. On the subject, see the seminal articles by E.  Goffman, ‘The Nature of Deference and Demeanour’, American Anthropologist, vol. 58/3 (1956), pp. 473–502, and R. Firth, ‘Postures and Gestures of Respect’, in J. Pouillon & P. Maranda (eds), Échanges et communications: Mélanges offerts à Claude Lévi-Strauss, vol. 1, The Hague: Mouton, 1970. 3. This would not be true of the female bust, however. Studies show that in the middle of a crowd, women are inclined to move sideways with one shoulder forward, which is not necessarily the case for men. 4. The most ostentatious male attitude in this regard is that of feet on the desk, as if to mark one’s territory. 5. On the analysis of bodily attitudes through novels, see in particular B. Korte, Body Language in Literature, Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1997, and J. McMaster, Reading the Body in the Eighteenth-Century Novel, Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2004. 6. One could refer to close-ups in cinema here, which are often presented as having encouraged a more careful consideration of what is likely to be conveyed in faces, whereas in theatre it is mostly gestures that count. The ability of good poker players to maintain the same expression at all times, no matter the cards they have in their hands, illustrates the importance of extreme control in certain circumstances. 7. ‘Her voice was ever soft, gentle, and low, an excellent thing in woman’, Shakespeare had King Lear say. For developments on this topic, see D. Graddol & J. Swann, Gender Voices, Oxford: Blackwell, 1989. 8. I am thinking in particular of the incessant nodding of the Japanese (from top to bottom), who seem to endlessly agree, or show deference. 9. With regard to Japan, another explanation, referring to the samurai code, stresses the importance of continuous self-control at a time when the slightest impression of offence could turn into a confrontation. Some of Kurosawa’s films about the feudal period show very well how aggressive impulses are instantly suppressed physically. 10. Cf. P. Burke, ‘The Language of Gesture in Modern Italy’, in J. Bremmer & H. Roodenburg (eds), A Cultural History of Gesture, Cambridge: Polity Press, 1991 (as well as the rest of the book). See also M.J. Braddick (ed.), The Politics of Gesture: Historical Perspectives, Oxford: Oxford UP, 2009.

276 

J.-P. Daloz

11. R.L. Birdwhistell, Kinesics and Context: Essays on Body-Motion Communication, Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1970, p. 282. 12. Drawing on Goffman’s analysis in Gender Advertisement, B. Schwartz gives many illustrations of couples in which the man or the woman is successively standing/sitting, in front of or behind, holding a child, the other’s shoulder, the back of the chair, etc., in order to show the complexity of symbolic perceptions. Vertical Classification: A Study in Structuralism and the Sociology of Knowledge, Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1981. 13. Especially since belonging to such and such a caste is largely expressed through gestures. See R. Ray & S. Qayum, Cultures of Servitude, op. cit. 14. M. Roller, Dining Posture in Ancient Rome: Bodies, Values, and Status, Princeton: Princeton UP, 2006, p. 20. However, most of the time, the person lying down is, of course, in an inferior position, as in the case of the bedridden patient vis-à-vis the nurse. 15. The comparative study of dances liable to encourage touch is very instructive here, especially since, throughout history, there has been no shortage of borrowing by the elites of types having popular origin, which are usually much more permissive. 16. M.D.  Sahlins, Social Stratification in Polynesia, Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1958, p. 20. I. Goldman, in Ancient Polynesian Society, op. cit., introduces comparative nuances, however. In Tonga, for example, the common people could touch the soles of the feet of high-ranking figures (p. 518).

17 Precedence

My second theme relating to the study of direct confrontations is clearly in continuity with the previous one. It also highlights phenomena of significant dissymmetry and often concerns the body. However, it is now a question of analysing what can be called a symbolic logic of priority. The term ‘precedence’ designates the fact of preceding others within a pre-established order, by virtue of a superior status. It may, for instance, refer to the right to sit in front of or above someone else. What is important from the point of view of social distinction is that certain protagonists tend to regularly get ahead of others, who are very much used to stepping aside. When such attitudes prove to be internalised, becoming second nature, they are likely to play a major role in processes of self-­ assertion and submission. Nevertheless, much will depend on concrete situations and power relations, but also on divergent cultural codes.

(Dis)positioning What interests me are static as well as dynamic configurations, which I shall consider first. If we look at two people walking together, the fact that they are positioned one behind the other, or side by side, is far from © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 J.-P. Daloz, Expressions of High Status, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3_17

277

278 

J.-P. Daloz

irrelevant. The former pattern suggests the existence of a status gap between them, whereas the latter would rather connote equal footing, or even a common front. If one revolves around, the impression will have yet another meaning, possibly giving rise to interpretations in terms of solicitation and inferiority of the individual bustling about. Thresholds and narrow passages (such as lanes, footbridges or paths) may be significant here because they are potentially indicative of who can claim primacy. We have theoretically at least three main scenarios. Either one of them readily gives way; no one agrees to yield;1 or they try to outdo each other in politeness. This may respectively reflect an accepted hierarchy, an uncompromising quarrel over precedence, or obliging strategies of civility pertaining to distinguished manners (cf. Chap. 9). However, in practice and if one examines prevailing codes in detail, matters can prove much more complicated. Thus, some texts enjoin men to always yield to ladies, except on the stairs. Similarly, in gallant company during urban walks, the man was supposed to keep to the side of the road and the gutter, but there were exceptions to this rule, the knowledge and observation of which precisely happened to be a factor of distinction. Pavements can be a major scene of precedence. In the city of Bulawayo, where I have often visited, the streets used to be very muddy. In Rhodesian times, Africans were allowed to use the sidewalks crosswise only to access a shop, or at most when no white people were in sight. If one of them was present, they had to get off the sidewalks immediately, at the risk of getting dirty and being honked at unmercifully by vehicles. A maid leading the white children of her employers was allowed to use the sidewalks, but when she was with her own she lost that privilege.2 In her above-­ mentioned account of New York’s upper class, anthropologist Wednesday Martin talks about elite women who seem to systematically expect others to step aside. She gives an ethological reading of this: less in terms of ‘get out of my way’ than ‘I don’t see you. Because you don’t even exist’.3 The struggle for precedence in its dynamic configuration also concerns vehicles. In this respect, the proliferation of carriages a few centuries ago not only contributed to the congestion of the main streets of large cities, but entailed new grounds for dispute. In a period when there were no traffic regulations at all, priority tended to be given to the vehicle of the

17 Precedence 

279

most important person. In early-modern Rome, for instance, one was supposed to stop in order to let a person of higher status pass and, ostensibly, to salute him or her. However, ambiguities about rank related to the coexistence of different milieus (aristocrats, prelates, ambassadors and all sorts of protégés) could lead to divergent interpretations. As a matter of fact, this new vector of distinction ultimately widened the scope of rivalries. Giving way to those who were perceived as inferior meant losing face and could provoke violent fights, in which coachmen and other servants would willingly get involved as the honour and reputation of each house were at stake.4 From a spatial point of view, in addition to narrowings and intersections, which are potentially conducive to confrontations, an important aspect to be looked at is that of overtaking. I argued (in the conclusion of Chap. 4) that we should not succumb to Manichean ready-­made thinking and reduce everything to a ‘symbolic violence’ that would supposedly come only from the powerful. Admittedly, explorations within anthropological and historical writings provide many illustrations of priority being given to elites. Marshall Sahlins tells us that in Polynesia, it was inconceivable to go ahead of a chief ’s boat.5 I also have in mind, among other examples, the famous express lanes reserved for dignitaries in Moscow since the Soviet era (the ‘Zil Lanes’, named after the former Russian limousines), allowing one to drive at full speed in the middle of traffic. However, to anticipate what will be discussed in the second part of the chapter, this kind of privilege is in no way universal. A few years ago there was a controversy in Oslo about whether the car of the prime minister (who then lived in a modest suburban neighbourhood) could use the bus lanes to avoid traffic jams. Symptomatically (considering the egalitarian Norwegian culture), it seems that a majority of people took offence at such a prerogative.6 Still regarding vehicles, mention must also be made of the issue of access to official areas. In the Louvre, at the beginning of the seventeenth century, and later in Vienna, restrictions had already been placed on the right to enter the central courtyard of the palace by carriage or horse. In Paris, fairly precise rules had been laid down, but the situation was complicated by occasional waivers approved by the king for certain persons. In the Austrian capital, where efforts were made to limit the proliferation

280 

J.-P. Daloz

of vehicles within the palace walls, one distinguished between ambassadors of major powers, whose carriages could pass through the porches, and their retinue, which had to park outside and continue on foot.7 Here we encounter once again the logic of the threshold, which is also quite essential for status differentiation in offices. The study of the behaviour of people entering such a space, as well as those occupying it, is linked to the problem of precedence in that relationships of superiority/ inferiority can easily be detected. Does the visitor come in without knocking, after having done so but without waiting for a response, or will he refrain from going in if nobody answers? Moreover, will he pause for a moment, or will he advance resolutely into the room? We saw in the previous chapter what the sitting/standing postures could mean. For what concerns us at this stage, the decision as to whether to leave the door ajar or closed, as well as the (more or less accommodating) layout of the seats, may prove significant. This brings us to a particularly interesting sub-theme as regards precedence, still from a dynamic perspective of displacement: that of greeting and escorting. To what extent does the host go to meet his guest? Does he stand in the doorway of the house, inside, or does he cross the courtyard to meet the person he is receiving? Similarly, when the guest leaves, how far is he or she escorted? Does the host wait until their vehicle has completely disappeared from view before withdrawing, or does he turn back beforehand? What is important is to reason in terms of the respective efforts made by each participant. The observer must take into account the distance covered by them, as well as the more or less marked eagerness shown by one towards the other, involving both the rhythm and length of the steps. The presence of stairs is likely to further add to the theatricality of the situation. To take up a position at the top, in the middle or at the very bottom is obviously not neutral. At times, each step may represent a symbolic gradation and a real stake, while going down two or three degrees at the moment of contact will be far from negligible. It is also possible to use intermediaries to lead the visitor (a servant, or in the past a member of the court, whose rank was an indication of the honour bestowed).8 In any case, the sequences of the interactions must be watched carefully. In principle, we are dealing with expected series, governed by codes

17 Precedence 

281

meant to guarantee a certain predictability.9 However, when the slightest false note can be detected during this approach phase, it is likely to be most significant and to highlight a disagreement regarding the pretensions of each party. A clear rejection of what is anticipated (shaking hands, hugging, etc.) will doubtless be interpreted this way. Of course, aside from this kind of deliberately offensive attitude, there is a whole range of inflections liable to reflect subtle nuances. Let us now move to static configurations, which are particularly supposed to reflect differences in status. Reserved places reflect in principle the positions occupied within a hierarchy. Anthropologists and historians have shown how spatial arrangements can be based on several axes: verticality, depth and laterality (the right side often being more prestigious than the left), but also according to the distance from the central figures.10 It is therefore essential to study the articulation of these dimensions and their possible contradictions. The display of rank is most crucial during official ceremonies and major occasions bringing elites together (such as banquets, shows, receptions, and so forth), whether under the eye of a larger audience or not. However, even very small groups may prove instructive to study (for instance, regarding who sits in which seat inside a vehicle). One complicating factor here is that the prevailing order may change depending on situations and the multiple layering of status rivalries. Thus, in the context of the mass at court, clergymen could be given more prominent exposure than would have normally been the case in other formal circumstances. The same was true for the holders of certain parliamentary offices, or magistrates in France. Major upheavals following changes of regime are equally worthy of attention. That said, the analyst must always carefully examine the layout of the premises. Do they offer elevated positions? How are hierarchies staged? Which places are the most coveted, and why? It is very important to imagine oneself both in the situation of the outside spectator and in that of the protagonists involved, for whom it may be essential to be easily identifiable and to enjoy a privileged view of the assembly. At Chinese banquets, the host traditionally stands facing the entrance, which allows him to watch the comings and goings. Quite often, the spatial arrangement will be reinforced by elements that aim at providing greater

282 

J.-P. Daloz

comfort for the higher-ranking actors (cf. Chap. 7). Thus, in Persia, the ruler stood on his throne under the shelter of a tent, with the key members of his entourage at his feet on carpets, whereas the remaining dignitaries remained on the grass. In the Nashua world, the emperor’s guests were expected to be ostensibly humble and even self-deprecating. In doing this, they were not in any way surrendering their status, but it was a matter of markedly showing their deference and subordinate position. This brings us back, among other things, to the theme of the hierarchy of seats (most clear in the case of the Aztecs) but also to the usual question of who has the right to sit or not. In this respect, from a comparative point of view, it is essential to differentiate between relatively fixed arrangements, in which each person retained his or her assigned seat, and those in which the right to occupy a particular seat depended on the men and women present. We know that at Versailles this could result in a very complex game of musical chairs as courtiers entered and left the room (to the delight of scrupulous custodians of seating etiquette and of memorialists).

 he Meaning of Processions and Other T Cultural Complexities On the basis of such findings, many authors have been tempted to draw conclusions of a structural nature. However, to generalise in this way leads to minimise the importance of fairly dissimilar scenarios. In order to illustrate this, I would like to offer some thoughts on the significant issue of the order of processions. I will then consider a number of other examples more briefly. Processions bringing together the dignitaries of a kingdom or the representatives of certain institutions, are often governed by a concern for meticulous choreography. It is crucial to give an impression of well-­ organised unity when moving, reflecting an order deemed appropriate and helping to discern the internal hierarchies within the components involved. Nevertheless, whoever opts for a comparative and inductive approach shall quickly realise that the prearranged order can consist in

17 Precedence 

283

having the most prominent figures appear at the head of the procession, at its very end, or in the middle. For instance, toward the end of the medieval era, in some universities, the rectors followed by the professors of law and of theology were always positioned at the front (ahead of the nobles, whatever their rank).11 This holds true as well in many religious processions. But there are also cases whereby the main actors stand instead at the heart of the parade. A classic example is that of the Roman triumph, where the impressive spoils were followed by the captives, the most important of whom immediately preceded the chariot of the victorious general. Then came his troops, praising him.12 Equally, it is quite frequent to see those who belong to the uppermost rung staying at the back of the procession. This was the case, for instance, of the kings of France on their way to the ‘Estates General’ during the Renaissance, or of the emperors of China whose canopy stood at the rear. The same model applies to some carnivals where the elected queen appears in the very last float, thus becoming the highlight of the event.13 We therefore have at least three contrasting patterns aimed at captivating and directing the gaze of the viewers each one producing a powerful rationale. The first is based on a strict logic of precedence, in the sense that the protagonists occupy the foreground, thus underlining their superiority in a decreasing order. The second relies on centrality. It proves to be more complex, because what we are dealing with is an order that is successively ascending up to the central figure and then decreasing. The third implies a logic of crescendo and mainly consists of being waited for, hoped for, knowing quite well how to play on a temporal dimension leading to a sort of grand finale. Being at the forefront is thus not necessarily synonymous with supremacy. In the second and third types, the subordinates who precede serve as ‘introducers’ (it goes without saying that we are dealing with our usual facet of vicarious display here), at a distance from the incarnation of supreme power. Things become even more complicated if we reason in terms of separate units. The king of France, during processions, did not stand in the very last row but in front of the last group (that made up by the members of the royal house). Similarly, the Chinese emperor was followed by scores of bodyguards. Thick descriptions allow us to take account of all sorts of rivalries between subgroups seeking precedence over each other. As is

284 

J.-P. Daloz

often the case in matters of distinction, the major concerns are about pre-­ eminence regarding categories very close to one’s own and in direct competition with it. What prevails in the eyes of some participants is therefore not so much their position in relation to the top elites, as the fact of being placed in front of, behind, or on the left instead of the right of the representatives of a rival body. If groups are excessively obsessed with precedence at their own level, this may obviously have consequences for the overall performance, especially when the objective is to convey an organicist vision14 (not to mention inter-individual struggles within the same congregation). It is important to associate such questions of spatial ordering with all the statutory emblems likely to contribute to the expression of rank (uniforms, stripes, and so forth). However, this presupposes an audience relatively cognisant of the codes at play. This is likely to be the case among the actors directly involved, but it is too readily assumed that most markers are immediately transparent to all spectators, or that the contrasts are sufficiently visible. In his fine work on symbolic rivalries at Versailles, Giora Sternberg mentions the sensitive issue of the length of trains in this respect. Clearly perceptible differences (of several ‘ells’) left no doubt about the primacy that was meant to be manifested. However, if some members of the court were to face a challenge from below, or if (as a result of pressures) an intermediate size was to be introduced for a certain category, the lines of reference would become blurred. In addition, it matters to mention the anxieties concerning the etiquette regarding who could ‘lift the tail’ of a princess of the Blood or a high-profile bride. Was it more prestigious to hold the end of the train, following in the footsteps of the lady but at a relative distance from her, or an edge, i.e. closer to the wearer but lateral? Here we find once again the issue of spatial dimensions and their problematic hierarchy, with potential quarrels of precedence among co-bearers. Indeed, the honour of the princess depended on the calibre of the nobles who carried her train. However, these nobles could also happen to be very sensitive to rank and evaluate each other’s titles when it came to their respective positioning.15 We have seen (in Chap. 5) that, while distinctions between table companions are marked in particular by the seating plan, all sorts of additional criteria sometimes could help to corroborate them: such as being given

17 Precedence 

285

larger portions, or food and wine of superior quality, being served first, enjoying more refined crockery, and so on. In a similar way, during contemporary Chinese banquets, beyond the thoughtful seating arrangements, toasts make it possible to highlight differences in status, by following a well-understood order. Deference consists in getting up to toast someone more important than oneself. It is expected that one will drink heavily on that occasion, as a sign of respect. Careful observation of this kind of ritual leads to the realisation that when the glasses clink, the junior guest holds his or her glass slightly lower. It is also possible to manifest superiority by not toasting directly with the latter, but by simply raising one’s glass or having it touch the rotating plate in the middle of the table. Researchers limiting themselves to a superficial analysis of the theatrics in this kind of context, and merely considering the spatial dimensions of precedence, would miss the essential elements expressing ascendancy. The same applies to greetings. Does a newcomer who takes the trouble to greet each person present undermine himself or uphold his standing? Among all the additional criteria liable to play a role here, the way of addressing others, and in particular all that has to do with denomination, often proves essential. I am thinking of the prestigious designations that can be put forward not only at the beginning of an interaction, but sometimes throughout it, thus constantly confirming the high status of one’s interlocutor. It is a matter of systematically repeating the name (all the more so if it is very well known16) and possibly the (un)official title, as well as reverential designations (your excellency, your honour, etc.). These practices go back at least to Roman antiquity, when they were used for both men and women, whose notability could be enhanced by terms like splendissima or honesta.17 Such deferential forms of address are of major significance in written correspondence, where they clearly reflect precedence. In seventeenth-­ century France, the use of the word Monseigneur indicated the subordinate status of the person writing, while (in accordance with the usual asymmetry) from the superior to the inferior a minimum requirements was expected: the king just wrote Monsieur, Madame, or used a kinship term such as Mon cousin.18 Today, the condescending expression Mon cher ami (My dear friend) follows the same logic, I think. One might also refer here to those standard formulas of courtesy anticipated at the end of

286 

J.-P. Daloz

letters, which can be extensively codified. In the past, one would readily indulge in self-deprecating formulas such as votre serviteur (your servant), which emphasised one’s resolve to remain at the disposal of others, and was often supplemented by adjectives such as ‘humble’ or très obéïssant (very obedient). The powerful, on their part, did not see any necessity for a closing formula or, at best, only entrusted the addressee to the protection of God. These declarations (whether spoken or written) emphasising precedence prove to be of utmost importance in those contexts that cultivate the art of complimenting and even flattering. However, many of them are the result of conventions that sometimes appear to be quite contradictory. The British or Americans, who use far less sophisticated terminology than the French, will call themselves ‘Doctor’ if they have a PhD in any discipline, whereas this is acceptable only for medical doctors in France. In Mexico, I once heard a student holding a BA degree order a pizza over the phone, calling herself a ‘Licenciada’. In some cases, an impressive accumulation of titles (e.g. Chief, Dr, Alhaji, Chairman, etc., in Nigeria) will appear on business cards, and the holder may be very fussy about having them fully listed on official occasions. Obviously, titles carry more symbolic weight if they are stated by others. Hence the crucial character, not only of reverential interlocutors, but of heralds, or of servants announcing the names of those coming in at grand balls, for instance. Studying this kind of distinctive aspect leads to an awareness of all sorts of customs. Thus, the famous ‘Madame est servie’, glorifying the hostess in France, must be replaced by the title of the very prestigious guest honouring her with his presence (e.g. ‘The President is served’), proclaiming his precedence. Time dimensions may equally be quite important, especially when certain individuals make most people wait for them or deliberately restrict the duration of interactions. Such attitudes suggest that the time of some would be more valuable than that of others. This brings us back to the issue of accessibility (which, as we have seen, can also involve spatial patterns), especially if the request for an appointment weeks in advance is imposed and coupled with yet another long wait on the day in question. Whether this is due to a genuinely busy schedule or is purely tactical, it is a good way to highlight one’s social eminence. Once again, the

17 Precedence 

287

relationship relies on a clear dissymmetry because, in the reverse situation, the subordinate could never afford to act in this way. He has to accept that someone more important than himself must be satisfied immediately, even if it means interrupting his current tasks.19 Similarly, it may prove difficult to apply the democratic process of queuing to persons of very high status. Being squeezed for a long time between those in front of them and those behind them would often be considered impossible to bear for elites accustomed to getting what they want quickly. Nigerians like to say that ‘there is no queue for the Big Man’. In Eastern European airports (e.g. in Romania), groups of ‘officials’ can still be seen sneaking past everyone, including business class passengers, with the overt consent of the check-in staff. Regarding air transport, it should be noted that, due to the development of ‘low-cost’ flights, the traditional airlines have sought to protect their privileged customers. Having just left the lounges reserved for them, they are expected to board first and to be able to settle in comfortably before the bulk of travellers burst in. However, as usual, it is important to take cultural differences into account. When I was conducting investigations in the Norwegian parliament, I observed ministers waiting patiently behind me at the canteen cash desks; but I also noted one day that this seemed to puzzle members of a Russian delegation who asked in English where the ‘VIP room’ was. In racist societies (such as South Africa under Apartheid or in the southern United States of the past), there were ticket booths for whites and others for blacks in railway stations. Or else segregation was carried out by virtue of the class of transport (the dominant people obviously not travelling in third class). In the small stations with a single ticket office, a white man was allowed to pass in front of all the blacks present, who were not only supposed to keep a respectable distance, but never to stare at whoever was in front of them, especially if it was a woman or a girl. This is reminiscent of multi-tiered health systems. Having access to a top private clinic certainly allows one to be treated promptly, for a fee. It also implies that one belongs to the category of individuals who could not endure excessive wait times, which may in itself partake of a strategy of distinction beyond the services provided. This brings us back to what was discussed at the beginning of this chapter, namely that there are social

288 

J.-P. Daloz

groups that have come to internalise the obligation to queue in order to obtain all sorts of things. Whereas this is a rather exceptional practice for members of the upper spheres (and one which would make them extremely uncomfortable, as are crowded waiting rooms with people from all walks of life constantly entering and leaving). It would be, of course, quite possible to be content with a mere sociological treatment of such situations.20 However, it is appropriate to add a bit of ethnological relativism into these issues of precedence. Punctuality may happen to be a major element of distinction, especially in those countries that consider time management in terms of efficiency. The famous reliability of the railways in Switzerland (also the cradle of the watch industry) is part of a whole cultural environment. But anyone who has lived in Africa, Latin America or even southern Europe knows that the sense of time can be far more flexible and carefree. Consequently, attitudes in the upper strata of society may prove extremely different in this respect. In the Far East, a very long wait does not necessarily translate into the signs of restlessness and impatience that would prevail in the West (barely compensated for by the thoughtfulness of smiling secretaries, expected to have reassuring words or to offer drinks). Still in a comparative perspective attentive to cultural disparities, I would like to address one last point, which concerns the fact of knowing whether we are dealing with contexts in which the symbolic order is clearly pre-established, or whether many uncertainties prevail. Historically, in the wake of constant disputes over primacy, some rulers have attempted to set very precise norms, based on a great deal of scholarly research, involving notably a full consideration of precedents. A well-defined order is a crucial issue, especially when it comes to ceremonies where a harmonious overall image is highly desirable. The Peerage & Baronetage, published by John Burke in 1826 in London and authoritative on the rank of nobles in the United Kingdom, has helped to avoid disputes and to limit resentment. In more modern (republican or international) settings, protocol fulfils the same role, in principle preventing potential disagreements. The fact remains that the institutionalised order (or that in the process of being stabilised) is frequently subject to debate. In her work on Ancien Régime France, Fanny Cosandey clearly shows the complexity of what was implicated and particularly the tensions related to contradictory

17 Precedence 

289

interpretations. Firstly, there was the problem of the co-existence of two different scales: one based on the fiefdom, its seniority, its more or less strategic location, and the other on the official position occupied at court. Moreover, the status of women appeared to be quite difficult to settle. Indeed, should one take into account the rank of their family of origin, or the one they had acquired through their marriage? And what about the current favourite of the king, the legitimised princesses (royal bastards) or ladies-in-waiting who sought to make the most of their proximity to the queen? Generally speaking, arbitrary royal nominations were a source of confusion. Sovereigns were somewhat torn between the imperative of posing as guarantors of the established order and the temptation to manipulate the rules (occasionally giving advantage to certain people, while downgrading others) according to their immediate interests and in order to show their omnipotence. Finally, as alluded to earlier, the prevailing hierarchy could be the result of conflicting criteria of superiority related to roles and sectors, and by the nature of the various ceremonials. In the topical literature, what is usually emphasised is that it is rarely appropriate to think in terms of once-and-for-all positions and attributes, but rather in terms of endless disputes between competing actors continually striving to set precedents. In this regard, the possession of records to support one’s claims was to be an important issue, even though the royal authority in France would eventually claim a monopoly on such matters. When it was foreseen that on a particular occasion one might be placed ‘beneath’ rivals, the ‘policy of the empty chair’ remained an option; but this could prove double-edged, especially if the ranking of those present was recorded for later events. In many cases, therefore, precedence would not be a simple reflection of pre-existing status, or a definitive achievement, but a constant battle to express and confirm rank.21 Let me add that there are hardly any symbolic invariants in this matter. For instance, the predominance of the right over the left, which can be understood by the fact that the first side denotes a superior natural skill (at least for right-handed people), is by no means universal. In China, the left one seems to be favoured (representing, among other things, the male pole). But that is quite relative because, according to the Taoist tradition, we are rather dealing with interpenetrating dualities, and it would be

290 

J.-P. Daloz

inadequate to say that one is clearly more valued.22 These alternatives are much less decisive, culturally speaking, than the notions of a centre or that of cardinal points. Thus, at banquets, the host is supposed to stand in the southeast, while his main guests are placed in the northwest, and those of lesser importance in the southwest…

Notes 1. La Fontaine was to make fun of such an attitude in his fable ‘The Two Goats’. Standoffs could easily end in duels. 2. A.K. Shutt, Manners Make a Nation, op. cit., pp. 58–60. 3. Primates of Park Avenue, op. cit., p. 83 (her italics). Nevertheless, it must be said that ‘dominated’ members of society also try to take over this kind of space at times. In a city from southern Sweden, for example, I came across teenagers of North African origin who were deliberately occupying the entire width of the pavement in the expectation that people would turn away. I experienced a similar scene in Strasbourg on a bicycle path. 4. J.M.  Hunt, ‘Carriages, Violence, and Masculinity in Early Modern Rome’, I Tatti Studies in the Italian Renaissance, vol. 17/1 (2014), pp. 175–196. 5. Social Stratification in Polynesia, op. cit., pp. 20–21. 6. About government members and vehicles in Nordic countries, the reader may refer to my article ‘Political Elites and Conspicuous Modesty: Norway, Sweden, Finland in comparative perspective’, Comparative Social Research, vol. 26 (2007), pp. 173–212. In the seventeenth century, the Danish monarch, head of a then highly unequal society, had a private road from Copenhagen to Fredericksburg. The English ambassador, who was dissatisfied with the country’s foreign policy, was to use it defiantly. 7. J.  Duindam, ‘Palace, City, Dominions: The Spatial Dimension of Habsburg Rule’, in M. Fantoni et al. (eds), The Politics of Space: European Courts ca. 1500–1750, Rome: Bulzoni, 2009. The attitude of diplomats is worthy of attention because everything depends on whether one takes into account the rank of the ambassador intuitu personae or that of the sovereign he represents (whose coat of arms could appear on the official coach).

17 Precedence 

291

8. In the Renaissance, envoys were able to welcome distinguished foreign guests at the border. They were joined along the way by nobles of increasing prestige as one approached the palace. Once there, this kind of respect could be eventually completed by other devices (hedge of honour along the stairs, guards in great uniform, sound aspects, and so forth) in order to celebrate the delegation, but also to impress its members. Cf. M. Chatenet, La cour de France au XVIe siècle. Vie sociale et architecture, Paris: Picard, 2002. 9. Classic counter-examples include half-mad despots (such as Caligula) or gang leaders with incredibly brutal reactions, likely to terrorise anyone approaching them. 10. See the attempts at theorising by scholars of traditional communities that place a particularly great emphasis on rank and its concrete visualisation. For instance, M.P. Vischer (ed.), Precedence: Social Differentiation in the Austronesian World, Canberra: Australian National UP, 2009. From a historical perspective, cf. especially F. Cosandey, Dire et vivre l’ordre social en France sous l’ancien régime, Paris: Éditions de l’École des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales, 2005, and Le rang, op. cit. See additionally C.T.  Goodsell, The Social Meaning of Civic Space: Studying Political Authority through Architecture, Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1988. 11. A. Destemberg & T. Kouamé, ‘Aux origines de l’homo academicus: Les signes de distinction sociale chez les universitaires médiévaux’, in J.-Ph. Genet and E. I. Mineo (eds), Marquer la prééminence sociale, op. cit., p. 50. 12. M. Beard, The Roman Triumph, Cambridge, MA: Harvard UP, 2007. 13. So said in passing regarding canopies, a royal representative officially entering a city would sometimes not stand under one, but before it (in order to signify that he is not the sovereign). The Sun King, on the other hand, asked that it be carried in front of him because it was unthinkable that it would keep him in the shade. 14. That of a mystical body (of which the king is, of course, the head while other major figures of the kingdom correspond to various parts). This is a good example of why it is advisable to study cultural (mental) representations, the representation of this or that authority, and representations in the theatrical sense of the term together. I refer to my book, La représentation politique, Malakoff: Armand Colin, 2017. 15. Status Interaction during the Reign of Louis XIV, op. cit.

292 

J.-P. Daloz

16. Let me recall that in the Middle Ages, the possession of a hereditary patronymic was something quite rare and prized. See various contributions in L. Jean-Marie and C. Maneuvrier (eds), Distinction et supériorité sociale, op. cit. Generally speaking, the comparative study of onomastic often proves most enlightening. It is interesting to know, for instance, that in India, belonging to a particular caste is expressed first and foremost through the name. I am also thinking, among other cases, of the importance of particles in France and of long surnames in Spain. 17. And, e.g. vir egregious for men. Cf. S. Demougin, ‘Titres officiels, titres officieux’, in A.B. Kuhn (ed.), Social Status and Prestige in the Graeco-­ Roman World, op. cit. In some societies, a continual devaluation resulting in an inflationary process was witnessed, leading to designations such as ‘Votre Altesse Sérénissime, Éminentissime’ (your Most Serene/Eminent highness), etc. 18. G. Sternberg, Status Interaction during the Reign of Louis XIV, op.  cit. (Chapter 6). This author also points out that what appeared on envelopes (e.g., Monsieur spelled out in full, or simply Mons., or M.) indicated differences of rank, as did the type of paper or ribbon used. Even the spaces left between paragraphs and before the signature could be meaningful (ample margins being an expression of deference). 19. Within modern bureaucratic systems, from courts to consulates issuing visas, for example, this is likely to be less easy. Although it is sometimes still possible to be represented or to benefit from accommodating staff. On the other hand, during major ceremonies at the top, the room for manoeuvre is very limited. Only the supreme authority can possibly take the liberty of making himself wanted. 20. I refer to B. Schwartz, Queuing and Waiting: Studies in the Social Organization of Access and Delay, Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1975, from which I have drawn some inspiration here. The author has added psychological dimensions, for example on the learning of waiting in children (from the suckling stage). 21. In addition to numerous illustrations in the works of F. Cosandey and G. Sternberg mentioned above, see also A. Duplouy, Le prestige des élites, op. cit., who argues that this was already a fact in Greek antiquity. 22. See M.  Granet, ‘Right and Left in China’, in the volume edited by R. Needham, Right and Left: Essays on Symbolic Classification, Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1973.

18 Gift Exchange

The act of giving obviously evokes attitudes of generosity, big-­heartedness, and possibly philanthropy. However, the anthropological literature has clearly shown the importance of one-upmanship in this domain when it comes to establishing hierarchies. Gifts are then likely to take a very social turn, contributing to strategies of distinction. This being said, it is essential to go beyond universalistic reading grids, such as the one famously proposed by Marcel Mauss, who believed that he could draw general conclusions from the examination of the Amerindian potlatch and the Trobriand Islands kula, but also from Aboriginal, Polynesian, Roman, Hindu, Germanic and Scandinavian cases, despite the fact that they are poles apart.1 The problem with ‘the gift’ is that this is a very broad category indeed. It is liable to encompass those ceremonies in ‘traditional’ settings which were to fascinate ethnologists so much as well as, say, presents from parents to young children nowadays (from whom little more than a modicum of gratitude is expected). Even if we confine attention to the customs related to status affirmation, it is quite evident that we are dealing with all sorts of configurations and not just with logics of ascendancy over those who are not able to compete. This is what I would like to consider first,

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 J.-P. Daloz, Expressions of High Status, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3_18

293

294 

J.-P. Daloz

from various angles. I will then come to a comparative discussion regarding ways of giving, occasions, and the nature of presents in many contemporary and past societies.

Practices in Perspective Gifts always turn out to be highly dependent on the cultural conventions in which they are embedded. Any scholar unfamiliar with the codes prevailing in a local context is likely to underestimate the symbolic depth of what is being expressed. For instance, those unaware of the importance of the more or less tight knots around envelopes containing money in Japan (not too tight on the occasion of a birth or an awarded degree—it being hoped that there will be further ones—but very much so for a matrimonial union—otherwise it would imply that the marriage might not last) will fail to catch the belief that presentation can influence the outcome of events. Likewise, putting new or used banknotes, with the front side on top or not, as well as subtle choices of colour and number of ribbons prove to be most significant. Analysts who hasten to reduce everything to mechanisms of domination obviously do not bother with such details.2 To be sure, the comparativist in search of noteworthy cases frequently encounters spectacular instances of competition involving gifts and counter-gifts. For example, after having received 300 bundles full of precious goods on the occasion of a mission dispatched by the King of Siam in 1686, Louis XIV felt obliged to send several ships overflowing with French luxury items in return. One also comes across bidding wars that seem endless. That is, unless one of the protagonists manages to have the last word, as with some Greek families in the archaic period, whose opponents eventually proved unable to compete in the realm of generosity. At times, there are expected sequences meant to frame the overall process and to offer opportunities for ostentation. Thus, among the Maoris, the relatives of the future husband were traditionally supposed to shower him with gifts that he redistributed to the entourage of his wife-to-be (gaining prestige through this). Her own community, however, was then in charge of the organisation of a major feast, gathering a large number of guests.3

18  Gift Exchange 

295

That said, when one looks closely at the arrangements, many differences come to light. The ideal may not be to supplant one another, but to maintain a kind of balance based on the assumption that the exchanges should be of roughly similar worth. This immediately raises the question of the value of the respective gifts which, quite often, are of a rather different nature and therefore not so easy to assess in relation to each other. In this respect, a protagonist who seems to give less than he has received does not necessarily dishonour himself if he subjectively judges his contribution to be equivalent. In addition, there are considerations of time lag. Returning the favour too quickly is frequently deemed inappropriate. Delaying it exaggeratedly is even more problematic, humiliating the debtor, but also potentially affecting the image of the original donor. Many monographic studies suggest that an individual who is overly generous without getting much in return ends up devaluing himself. Accepting expensive gifts while spending too little is equally likely to debase a social actor and makes him look stingy. However, in some cases, there may be a bit of pride in benefiting from the transaction, or in not caring in the least about the lack of reciprocity.4 A good way to avoid reductionism and to take into account all sorts of logics of assertion related to gift giving is to dissociate bottom-up, top-­ down and ‘between equals’ perspectives (especially at the intra-elite level). It would be wrong to underestimate the importance of gifts from social inferiors to their superiors, whether they represent a mark of respect, precede or go along with a request, or express gratitude. In the Ottoman Empire, it was unthinkable to beg anything from a man of power without offering him a gift first. At times, we are rather dealing with a form of ‘guanxi’, to use the Chinese term, in the sense of constantly maintaining useful contacts with individuals of pre-eminent status, liable to be mobilised sooner or later. Specialists often find it difficult to differentiate such practices from mere tributes or corruption, but it is important to beware of normative eurocentrism and instead seek to go deeper into the nature of interactions within specific cultural frameworks.5 Limiting our attention to aspects related to social distinction issues, several phenomena prove most significant. There are contexts where a symbolic competition between donors can be observed. To be able to give an original present to a sovereign, for example, set you apart from the

296 

J.-P. Daloz

rest, knowing that this involved a huge cost and a true effort. Among members of a court, the objective was to arouse the interest of the monarch, under the gaze of one’s peers and rivals.6 From the point of view of the dominant figure, this type of homage enhances him, demonstrating his superior rank. However, he then lays himself open to foreseeable demands likely to be difficult to evade. It must be stressed that gift giving is indeed sometimes a means of pressure, an investment in the expectation of a return, especially for social actors striving to stand out from the crowd, but even for lesser individuals. This takes us away from conventional interpretations and introduces us instead to what I am used to call the ‘blackmail of the dominated’. Still following this ‘bottom-up’ perspective, there is much to be said about gifts to the deity (or deities), which are extremely revealing of major cultural cleavages. These relate in particular to sacrifices, to the question of whether supplications or prayers of thanks prevail, not forgetting of course the role of possible intercessors. One thinks here of the indulgences controversy, but also of the lasting debates about the necessary pomp or humility of the Church and its representatives on earth. Approaching gift giving from a top-down perspective prompts us to consider other aspects: those of liberality, patronage, euergetism, and even the throwing of offerings to the crowd (a very popular act in certain contexts, but an ambiguous one, as some rulers used to enjoy watching the commoners scramble to get something). Liberality, an ideal long cultivated by the aristocracy, should, it seems to me, be linked to the theme of ostentation, of which it is just one aspect. The European sovereigns of the seventeenth century had to be generous towards their courtiers, who often had insufficient income to constantly renew their wardrobe. The prince’s generosity thus indirectly contributed to the splendour of his retinue and this gave him the opportunity to express his preferences by gratifying his favourites in particular, thus creating a competition that could easily be exploited. A few notches lower, the same thing happened when nobles redistributed used clothes to their own dependents. However, prodigality could end up appearing as a sign of weakness, that of monarchs (such as James I, in England, for example) continuously besieged by demands and squarely under the influence of their entourage.

18  Gift Exchange 

297

This brings me to the question of the gift within clientelistic systems, characterised by asymmetrical reciprocity. The ‘clients’ assist their ‘boss’ in all sorts of ways in exchange for his protection. The relationships are blatantly unequal but cannot be reduced to pure domination, in that the patron seeks to secure loyalties and remains more or less indebted for the services provided by his subordinates. As many authors have noted, such relationships tend to rely on the language of friendship, within an emotional atmosphere tempering the gap in terms of respective resources and image. From the point of view of the social superior, what is at stake is also the expectation that the subordinate will show clear signals of allegiance. Two dimensions are important to mention, which correspond to observations I have often made, particularly in sub-Saharan Africa. The first is that most of the time we are not dealing with merely bilateral connections, but also vertical networks. Most of the actors implicated turn out to be bosses as well as subordinates, having both a superior and protégés. Hence a constant change of roles according to interactions, and crucial logics of redistribution (concrete or symbolic). Secondly, these informal relations are rarely unbreakable, as a client can always leave a protector for a more generous one, within the framework of a tough competition between patrons (whose reputation heavily depends on their capacity to attract supporters). Euergetism is a variety of top-down form of gift that deserves attention too. This neologism was created to refer to a practice, quite common in Greece during the Hellenistic period and later in Rome, whereby local elites took on important expenses. These could involve architecture (ramparts, porticoes, aqueducts, public baths, fountains, etc.), banquets, ceremonies and games offered to all their fellow citizens. Analytically, euergetism clearly differs from clientelism in that it was addressed indiscriminately to all the free members of a city. It did not aim to reward favoured clients, nor to target a category of the population (such as ‘the poor’). It also differed from all-out philanthropy, in that it exclusively concerned the inhabitants of a particular place. It was expected that every important public figure would at some point show this kind of generosity, intended to strengthen the unity of a city. To a large extent, euergetism can be interpreted in terms of elite legitimation. What is remarkable with regard to social distinction is that

298 

J.-P. Daloz

munificent donors could, in return, have their names engraved on the buildings they had funded or, better still, their statue erected at the entrance. Benefactors were sometimes also granted the right to wear special clothes that helped to identify them, or to be buried in a dedicated section of the cemetery. Even if we are faced with a rather singular practice which cannot be related to later forms of gift and counter-gift (as Paul Veyne has convincingly argued7), it seems to me that works carried out in some medieval cities or even nowadays collective goods offered by rich members of certain diasporas who send a lot of money in order to contribute to the development of their town of origin, is governed by a similar logic. I would add that this type of initiative strongly exacerbates intra-elite competition, which brings me to my third perspective. Gifts between social actors of high status, who often tend to consider themselves rivals for superiority, are obviously likely to encourage one-­ upmanship. Here, we obviously think of the spectacular sequences discussed in classical anthropology, whether symbolic fights concerned leaders or the communities they represented. In North America today, it is well known that ostentatious donations at charity balls remain a major way for the nouveaux riches to stand out. At the end of the day, such donations certainly benefit institutions taking care of the needy and causes of all kinds. However, we are also dealing with fashionable society events, often recorded by reporters of the ‘celebrity magazines’, or at least of local journalists who will not fail to comment on the sums distributed by so-and-so. The organisers have every interest in their guests showing exceptional generosity, in that reciprocity is anticipated within the framework of a ‘social calendar’. If big cheques have been written at a party, generating a lot of publicity, the major donors expect that this will not be forgotten when they hold their own. Nevertheless, in the United States, ethnic dimensions frequently come in (possibly in relation to some exclusive clubs hosting the gatherings), thus channelling solidarity. A particularly striking case regarding elite exchange is the outright rejection of gifts from others, which Marcel Mauss likened to a quasi-­ declaration of war. It is important to realise, however, that such rejections can be based on very different motives. French king Louis IX, while he was in captivity in Egypt, refused a gift from the sultan because, despite his current condition of prisoner, he considered himself above him.

18  Gift Exchange 

299

Henry VIII suddenly stopped accepting gifts from the queen (Catherine of Aragon) and to have some sent to her and her daughter Mary in order to show his wrath. An English ambassador took the liberty of refusing a diamond necklace offered by the Sun King himself, because he had not been able to obtain complete satisfaction with regard to certain requests from his country. There are also gratifications that are deemed inappropriate or offensive, for one reason or another. Besides, one comes across individuals who just do not want to get involved in these spirals of reciprocity liable to constrain them endlessly.8 This can be seen in today’s Japan, for instance, where some members of the new generations (especially young women, who have been traditionally in charge of this kind of task) are trying to free themselves from such expectations (concerning their colleagues at work, their neighbours, their doctor, their children’s teachers, etc.) at the risk of being ostracised. Returning to relations at the elite level, a borderline scenario for the socially dominant person is to request the granting of a coveted object belonging to a subordinate. It has sometimes been considered (quite ethnocentrically) as childish or as a vile, begging attitude. Nevertheless it may be symptomatic of a power struggle, transforming the free intention to give into a demand. In the past, when invited to visit a fine collection, a prestigious guest could thus deliberately express such a strong interest in a work of art that his host felt obliged to offer it to him. In the case of a painting, however, it was still possible to have a copy made and to keep the original. This being said, it appears that the literature on the gift often tends to reduce everything to agonistic postures. As much as I am inclined to criticise the dogmatism of neo-Marxist writings which always postulate collusion amongst the upper classes, I believe that, in this matter, we overlook the fact that exchanges are not necessarily to be boiled down to symbolic confrontations. They can simultaneously benefit all parties involved. A precious gift may honour both the giver and the receiver, under the watchful gaze of their respective entourages. When Ottoman dignitaries or maharajahs showered strangers with jewels, they were also in a way dignifying themselves by suggesting the standing of those they were receiving. Likewise, it is significant that during the Renaissance, aristocrats used to attribute the name of the donor (e.g. the ‘Farnese’) to the

300 

J.-P. Daloz

horses and birds of prey they had received from prestigious peers, thus preserving the memory of the favour.9 While it is useful from a heuristic point of view to consider the respective logics of giving from superior to inferior and vice versa, or between people of relatively equal status, we cannot fail to recognise the fact that a more dynamic vision is often required, bringing up a further layer of complexity. There are illustrations of gifts coming from the bottom of society but eventually reaching the top. For example, in Japan, during the feudal era, peasants captured young hawks which were offered to their local lord. He would then have them trained and the best were sent to his liege and so on, possibly up to the shogun or the emperor. In Nigeria, I have more than once noted that small gifts given to a girlfriend (say a bottle of perfume, a chain) were immediately passed on to her mother or elder sister, as if it was more important to place them in a position of indebted person than to enjoy the present oneself. Conversely, it was not uncommon to observe that modest gifts allocated to ‘Big Men’ were promptly redistributed by them to their most loyal supporters, who were always appreciative of such gestures. Alongside abstract schematisations, it is essential to produce thick descriptions aiming at really penetrating perceptions and meanings. For instance, having been brought into contact with Chinese families, I was able to realise that everything was experienced in terms of ‘face’, but also to what extent power relationships could evolve. Receiving a lot without being able to return the favour amounts to a very uncomfortable position. However, I have witnessed spectacular reversals of fortune, with the dominated individuals not content to rectify the situation and to restore their image, but seeking to gain the upper hand, under the watchful eye of an entire neighbourhood. If I am to believe relatives who speak Mandarin, there is a very extensive vocabulary to describe what is at stake: referring to gain, loss, restitution, reputation, dependence and independence. One should also realise that what is concerned are not only material exchanges, but possibly services rendered as well.

18  Gift Exchange 

301

Significant Variables In order to understand what is at stake in terms of social distinction, the comparativist must consider all sorts of dimensions. Most fundamental are the degree of familiarity among the actors involved, the giving patterns, the most suitable occasions to offer gifts and their nature. The importance of exchanging presents in the course of initial encounters has rightly been emphasised. During the great period of explorations, it was crucial to show that there were no hostile intentions, especially in the absence of interpreters or a common language. Anthropology convincingly points out that the role of these introductory gifts was to acknowledge the others, that one accepts their presence and wishes to please them. Marcel Mauss spoke of ‘buying peace’. This kind of preliminary has long been viewed as an indispensable signal, whereas an exchange of polite and friendly words would often suffice today to establish a relationship. However, there have been so many tricks and misunderstandings too! One obviously thinks of the theme of ‘cheap junk’ offered, for example, to Amerindians. Here, it is important not to fall into ethnocentrism and to understand that, in the eyes of certain tribes, knives, axes and shiny glassware could have real value, whereas furs were considered commonplace. The introduction of alcohol, and even of morphine,10 was to have much more dire consequences. As for misunderstandings, the most famous episode is probably that of Moctezuma repeatedly sending impressive gifts as the Spaniards advanced towards his capital. He believed that this would intimidate them and demonstrate his greatness (knowing that tributes were at the heart of the despotic functioning of the Aztec Empire). Unfortunately for him, far from encouraging the invaders to turn back, these sumptuous gifts would instead stimulate Cortés and his troops’ lust for wealth. Beyond such episodes, it is appropriate to take the issue of trust into account. Political scientists and sociologists alike insist on the need for it in both political and socio-economic relations. However, from a comparative point of view, the inclination to trust others varies greatly from one culture to the next, just as the attempt to establish a climate of

302 

J.-P. Daloz

confidence is likely to be based on very different modalities. In China, where strangers are rarely trusted, gifts tend to be seen as a way to build up a relationship. In business circles, potential partners usually meet several times and, most importantly, share meals in restaurants. This is a prerequisite that is not always well understood by foreigners who are not familiar with local practices and in a hurry to get contracts signed. Quite frequently, the fact of having spent a certain number of hours together in an informal setting and of regularly exchanging gifts carry more weight in the minds of the Chinese than official papers. The value of the presents will be an indication of the calibre of the firm and its willingness to invest in the business association, with intermittently gifts expected to follow after the deal has been finalised. Here, generosity is mainly intended to compensate for the absence of previous ties (knowing that in China, one is inclined to invoke the slightest shared identity, if any). However, as was said at the outset, this type of practice, which is very well thought out and calibrated, is only one possible scenario among others. There are many circumstances (especially within families) where calculations do not seem to be that essential. The fact remains that whether or not one is acquainted with the interlocutor cannot be overlooked. This is generally a key variable in matters of social distinction. What has just been said about China leads us to examine the more or less ritualised character of the ways of giving. There are cultural environments where this kind of action is surrounded by a host of incredibly subtle prescriptions. I have already alluded to the Japanese case in this respect.11 It is important to understand the ins and outs of such conventions, for instance regarding thank-you gifts. Gestures equally prove instructive to observe quite often. As usual, I am particularly interested in opposite codes. One noteworthy example is the question of whether drinks brought by guests to a meal should be drunk immediately or not. The symbolism of instant sharing certainly is very powerful indeed. However, in many a context, this will be seen as offensive, if not outright unacceptable. In the eyes of the people present, this ‘interference’ would in fact be tantamount to undermining the efforts (both quantitative and qualitative) expectedly made by the persons who have organised the party. If somebody brings an outstanding bottle of wine meant to be

18  Gift Exchange 

303

consumed with no delay, it is he or she who is likely to benefit from this in terms of image, to the detriment of the host who should be celebrated first and foremost. Moreover, we come across, once again, the theme of visibility. Gifts are often given maximum publicity. This will frequently be so on the occasion of the presentation, with a view to highlighting the figures of the donor and the receivers, possibly in front of a large audience. However, this type of display may be drawn out. I have in mind here the custom of having all wedding presents put in one room during a whole week, for everyone to see, as well as formal processions featuring gifts. One also thinks of the fact of exhibiting what has been received (a queen wearing such and such jewels having been given to her, for instance). All these arrangements are likely to arise comments, especially about who gave what. On the other hand, there are some that are designed to prevent the slightest ostentation. In Italy, the sumptuary laws of some cities stipulated that the bridegroom’s counter-gifts should be brought within closed chests, preventing any pomp. It may also happen that prominent actors prefer a relative discretion and take offence at any ostentatious behaviour, which they deem vulgar. To return to the case of charity balls in the United States, there are regular donors who apparently refrain from participating at some after having consulted the guest list, or in view of the choice of a master of ceremonies known to draw attention to the excessively generous newcomers, trying to establish themselves on the social scene in this way. Another aspect (which emerged in the course of the research and has the merit of linking the issue of the prevailing codes at work to the theme of vicarious display) has to do with the possible role of intermediaries. Gifts between individuals may be delivered by an envoy or, between countries, by an ambassador. Within courts of the past, the question arose as to the possible remuneration of such go-betweens, whose more or less high rank could moreover constitute an indication of the importance accorded to the operation (notwithstanding the value of what was offered). Some diplomats, in addition to the initial gift they were supposed to produce when they took up their post and were officially presented, subsequently asked their administration for more objects of value. These served as a pretext for soliciting further audiences with a sovereign,

304 

J.-P. Daloz

thus making it possible to discuss delicate matters. In return, it was expected for the latter to offer gifts as well, without it always being clear whether they were intended for the delegate or for the state he represented. Some governments (such as those of Russia and Venice) had a very strict policy in this respect. But since ambassadors were often required to draw on their personal funds in order to honour their country’s image at court, it could be considered acceptable for them to obtain compensation by appropriating at least part of what they had been offered. This illustration shows how the codes of conduct can be open to interpretation. In any case, the attention paid to social norms leads us to wonder about the events that are particularly conducive to gift giving. When the exercise is collective in nature, symbolic competition is likely to be more accentuated. Life-cycle stages and certain times of the year, but also specific occasions linked to the accession to high office or hospitality, are mostly concerned. Births, christenings, marriages and deaths are circumstances that call for family gatherings and beyond. However, it is crucial to be aware of the diversity of conventions. The celebration of birthdays and anniversaries (i.e. of a personal or of an event-based nature) is a relatively recent phenomenon in the West. Besides, those to which a great importance is attached vary from one culture to another. It is therefore interesting to go into detail and to examine the provisions closely. For instance, the gifts possibly offered during the courtship phase tend to serve as an indication of the degree of commitment to the relationship as well as of the resources available, especially if the girl has several suitors. They may imply gradations that are carefully weighed before the proposal. Sometimes a scrupulous respect for propriety will be imperative, but surprises can prove useful and liable to make all the difference, up until the engagement which is always at risk of being broken. The annual celebrations on which it is customary to give presents obviously reflect quite different calendars (New Year’s Day, various religious traditions, national commemorations, and so forth). There are, however, some spectacular adoptions, such as Valentine’s Day, which has taken on considerable importance in Japan and is far from concerning only spouses and lovers. Beyond the disparities in terms of date (St. Nicholas Day vs.

18  Gift Exchange 

305

Christmas, etc.), it is essential to identify which type of message is conveyed. It can be argued that many feasts help to reaffirm social hierarchies, but in rather contradictory ways. If we take the example of New Year’s gifts, they may consist of asymmetrical exchanges (some rulers in the past used to distribute more than they received) or of presents coming mainly from subordinates (from the employee to the manager, from the tenant to the landlord, from the student to the teacher, from the patient to the doctor, in Japan, not to mention from the descendants to the ancestors). In the latter configuration, the intention is to renew the ‘pact of good understanding’ by showing generous gratitude to those on whom one depends. Conversely, successful companies are known to devote a significant portion of their budgets to gifts for their best customers as a way of distinguishing themselves from competitors. This begs the question of who actually is in a dominant position. In any case, the one-sidedness of the operation is important. What emerged when I looked at this temporal dimension was that the frequency of the gifts is a key factor. Either you offer impressive ones at fairly regular intervals, or you opt for a constant stream. The matter may take a much more ad hoc turn, however. I am also thinking of the rich topic of hospitality, which may be likened to a form of giving. The reception of others can be quite theatrical, especially when they are very prominent persons. In certain small traditional communities studied by ethnologists, the suppression of what normally contributed to the authority or power of the local chief was imposed. He was, for instance, expected to break his staff of command, or to have the settlement fence pulled down as a sign of submission. Culturally speaking, hospitality is often an obligation: from the ancient Greek fear that a modestly dressed visitor might happen to be a god in disguise, to the requirement to always keep an empty place at the dining table in case someone shows up. Likewise, the rules of Christian charity requested monks not only to welcome those who knocked at their door, but also to treat them with deference. There is an abundant literature on the subject, for example regarding the housing of an overlord during the Renaissance. Receiving a duke, a prince, and even more so the king or queen, was a much sought-after honour. Many a sovereign regularly invited himself/herself to this or that

306 

J.-P. Daloz

castle.12 A possible extension of the stay was seen as a mark of approval and distinction, even if it meant exorbitant expenses for the hosts. Some venerable residences in France and the United Kingdom still boast of having a ‘royal chamber’. This might refer to the fact that a monarch slept there, or merely to a ceremonial room maintained in the hope of a visit. When the lord of the place had none, it was expected that he would give up his own. However, many difficulties were bound to arise. What about the apartments assigned to the queen and her ladies-in-waiting? Above all, according to what criteria was one room considered preferable to another? Was it a question of size, of view, of furnishings, or comfort?13 Further complications could be encountered with regards to meals and members of the retinue seeking to take advantage of the situation (cf. Chap. 13). In any case, it is important not to reason merely in terms of domination here. Admittedly, the host could be heavily indebted in order to meet the standards of hospitality. Nevertheless, even when taking into account the expensive gifts that had to be offered on the arrival of the guests and on departure, he usually knew how to make the most of such a visit, either on the spot or a little later, claiming favours for himself and his relatives. The last theme deserving to be examined is that of the nature of the gifts. This can obviously prove most instructive in relation to universes of meaning and prevailing classifications. Quite often, highly valued local products will be put forward. However, there are also ‘inalienable possessions’,14 or goods strongly associated with the very person of the donor. In China, the objects received are rarely seen as anonymous. In some cultural contexts, giving something that belongs to you endows the gift with a special aura. In the Ottoman Empire (in reference to a practice said to have been inaugurated by Prophet Muhammad himself ), a sultan who took off the jacket he was wearing and placed it on the shoulders of his distinguished guest bestowed immense honour on him. The intimacy of the act was perceived as a sign of closeness bringing good luck (baraka). Frequently, foreigners failed to see the point of such a gesture and, on their side, they tended to offer gifts which could appear quite banal and anonymous. However, when a European officer undid his belt and gave his sword to a maharajah, this was extremely appreciated.

18  Gift Exchange 

307

In colonial India, the British very rarely did this. They routinely brought rather modest gifts (which devalued them in the eyes of their interlocutors) or worse, they recycled what they had received, redistributing it to another prince. Eventually, they would create the ‘Star of India Order’: a decoration reserved for dignitaries, which came in three classes and was accompanied by a ceremonial coat as well as a pendant featuring Queen Victoria’s portrait. Such a decoration was difficult to understand from an Indian perspective, especially since it could not be bequeathed and had to be returned on the death of the recipient. This distinction might only be awarded to his successor after a certain period of time and depending on his own loyalty to the British crown. From a comparative point of view, this raises questions regarding the value of gifts in relation to divergent cultural codes. More generally, it is important to be conscious of a multiplicity of different configurations. For instance, there are contexts where originality is praised and some in which it is rather advisable to inquire about the tastes of the recipient with a view to showing personalised attention. To take another example, if you are invited to a party and arrive with a very expensive gift, there is a risk of putting your host (as well as the guests) in an awkward position. However, it is sometimes understood that nobody is supposed to bring anything at all. Obviously, this will equally apply when it is your turn to receive others. In Japan, one does not hesitate to check the price of what has been offered to you carefully in order to select a present of similar or slightly higher cost later, so as not to embarrass others. Needless to say, this would be seen as most impolite and incongruous in many environments. Thus, a whole range of gift etiquette may come into play, depending on variable cultural prescriptions, but also on signals of a more economic nature (market value), or even the consideration of individual predilections. All these elements are liable to play a decisive role with respect to social distinction. When one looks in some detail at what is given (thanks to what ethnologists, historians and investigators from other disciplines tell us on that matter), one realises how protean this topic is. It would, of course, be quite easy to make connections with many of the themes discussed in the preceding chapters. In keeping with the general philosophy of this book, however, it is less important for me to instance scores of illustrations here

308 

J.-P. Daloz

than to reason in terms of various mechanisms of distinction. For instance, horses had an extra aura when they were adorned with unusual harnesses or when they came from countries where their export was usually forbidden. There are gifts that are supposed to be endlessly repeated, as is often the case with foodstuffs. In the past, seasonal products were regularly brought in by subordinates to their master. Similarly nobles provided venison to rich commoners and clergymen, who fully appreciated its symbolic value. In Japan, the game gathered from a hawk hunt had a superior appeal and was worthy of being offered to the emperor. In Hawai’i, where headdresses and coats made from the feathers of certain highly coloured birds fell under a monopoly (being reserved for the paramount chiefs), supplying them in large quantities each year was extremely prized. Conversely, there are gifts aiming to appear as absolutely unique. In China, the hosts of great banquets not only had to provide enormous quantities of food, but their aim was also to be as original as possible with the hope that the meal they offered would remain forever in the minds of their guests. In the United States, during the ‘Gilded Age’, there were memorable parties hosted by business tycoons, with each female guest receiving a piece of expensive jewellery hidden in her napkin. It should be understood, however, that this is not necessarily just about prestige goods. Using one’s relations in favour of others, or even obtaining profitable information, can be considered as gifts. Besides, referring to the third part of this book, there were transfers of persons. A prince could give his jester to the king. Some Asian lords typically offered their most beautiful daughter to a potentate. In the harems of the Middle East, there were stories of captives of foreign origin, regarded as exceptional beauties, but also of exceedingly talented dancers, singers or musicians who, gift after gift, would pass from one harem to the next, eventually reaching the very top, i.e. that of the Caliph.15 Even if specialists (notably relying on letters and diaries) have been able to give us some idea of how the practices were experienced, and if generations of anthropologists have finally managed to decipher what precisely was at stake in certain cases, we have to admit that there is still much that we do not know or understand.16

18  Gift Exchange 

309

Notes 1. In geographical as well as cultural respects! Mauss is undoubtedly a relativist at times. I am thinking in particular of his analyses regarding what he calls ‘the techniques of the body’ (like swimming), which are in no way natural but the result of learning or imitation. On the other hand, as far as the gift is concerned, the ‘armchair investigator’ makes some very questionable generalisations (including the assertion that there would be no such thing as disinterested ones). 2. Cf. P. Bourdieu, Esquisse d’une théorie de la pratique, Geneva: Droz, 1972, a book that tends to reduce the gift to economic dimensions. 3. R.  Firth, Economics of the New Zealand Maori, 2nd edn, Wellington: R.E. Owen, 1959 [1929]. Scholars familiar with the anthropological literature on Polynesia know that this was only one among several scenarios and that, for example, the islands in the eastern zone placed more emphasis on quantitative aspects than the western archipelagos. 4. This is what Sahlins called ‘negative reciprocity’. It reminds me of one of those famous meetings on the ‘Pheasant Island’ at the French–Spanish border (that of 1660), when the austere Hispanic delegation ironically commented on the outrageous elegance of the French and brought rather ordinary presents, while Louis XIV produced lavish gifts. This was considered as a very insulting gesture and there was certainly reason to take offence at that, but the Spaniards did not seem to care. 5. I refer to my chapter on ‘The (ab)use of corruption’, in P. Chabal and J.-P. Daloz, Africa Works: Disorder as Political Instrument, Oxford: James Currey, 1999. On the Chinese case, see M.M.-H. Yang, Gifts, Favors, and Banquets: The Art of Social Relationships in China, Ithaca: Cornell UP, 1994. 6. Cf. especially F. Heal’s rich work, The Power of Gifts: Gift Exchange in Early Modern England, Oxford: Oxford UP, 2014. 7. Le pain et le cirque. Sociologie historique d’un pluralisme politique, Paris: Le Seuil, 1976. For an overview of the controversies, further to this seminal work, see, for example, A. Zuiderhoek, The Politics of Munificence in the Roman Empire: Citizens, Elites and Benefactors in Asia Minor, Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2009. On the gift in general, at the time, see contributions on various cases in M.L. Satlow (ed.), The Gift in Antiquity, Chichester: Wiley Blackwell, 2013.

310 

J.-P. Daloz

8. It is worth recalling that a whole normative discourse has developed about the gift. In antiquity, Aristotle (Nicomachean Ethics) already considered it more important to give than to receive, while Cicero (On Duties) and Seneca (On Benefits) warned against being excessively indebted. Later on, we could mention both Erasmus and Hobbes, the latter having a very instrumental vision of the gift. 9. M. Meiss-Even, Les Guise et leur paraître, op. cit., p. 236. 10. Jameson, the physician accompanying Rhodes, injected the Ndebele king, Lobengula, who was suffering from gout. The objective was to relieve him and to gain his confidence, but also eventually to make him addicted to the substance in order to facilitate the conquest of the future Rhodesia. 11. For an in-depth look at this intricate universe, see K. Rupp, Gift-Giving in Japan: Cash, Collections, Cosmologies, Stanford: Stanford UP, 2003. 12. Queen Elizabeth I was known to deliberately spend much of the year away from her own palaces, in order to save as much money as possible and then spend her income on expensive finery. 13. See M. Chatenet, La cour de France au XVIe siècle. Vie sociale et architecture, op. cit. (Chapter VII). 14. Anthropologist A.B. Weiner has introduced new thinking on the subject, which complicate our understanding of giving. See her book, Inalienable Possessions: The Paradox of Keeping-While-Giving, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1992. 15. M.S. Gordon & K.A. Hayn (eds), Concubines and Courtesans, op. cit. 16. Further research is thus required. In this vein, see the aforementioned book by M. Pitelka, Spectacular Accumulation, on the Japanese universe of the Tokugawa, which raises many questions.

19 Conclusion

At the end of this wide-ranging exploration, it is clear that the manifold diversity of practices through which status is signified makes any pretension to reduce everything to a structuralist grammar illusory. The present book (unlike the two previous ones) had no theoretical ambition per se. However, it is worthwhile saying a few words on the comparative method proposed. In a nutshell, the aim was to identify modes of distinction inductively and to set them up as possible configurations, while taking full account of the logics of meaning in which they are embedded. This certainly applies to the upper stratum, which was the focus of our discussion here, but also to those below. For example, in Hong Kong it is demeaning to drive around in a used car. For those who cannot afford a new one, it seems preferable to use public transport and to invest in other commodities (e.g. a luxury watch or designer clothes). Conversely, in Nigeria, standing out from the crowds doomed to packed minibuses proves quite crucial. Having your own vehicle, seen as a vector of autonomy, sends an important signal, be it an old, rusty car. Two dissimilar scenarios are thus discernible here: rather nothing than a poor element/ rather a poor element than nothing. Knowing that the nagging hope of being among the people who count a little can be traced to the lowest © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 J.-P. Daloz, Expressions of High Status, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3_19

311

312 

J.-P. Daloz

levels of society (without, of course, being a ubiquitous phenomenon), efforts to distinguish oneself can be examined at this level as well.1 To return to elites, the assertion of status is often more a matter of convention than one of choice. Is the supreme commander expected to lead his men into battle himself (like those Germanic chiefs so admired by Tacitus)? Or does eminence require one to watch the engagements from a distance, giving orders little by little (like the sixteenth-century Japanese lord on his stool, flanked by a semaphore soldier)? Or should the great strategist transmit his directives from a palace, a bunker, far away from the battlefield? The comparativist frequently notes to what extent modalities depend on mono-cultural repertoires. At times, one observes a relative curiosity for foreign practices, and a simultaneous reluctance to adopt them. The idea that nothing can supplant one’s native mores prevails. External models may possibly exert a great fascination (a strong Anglomania suddenly predominating, for example). Or only certain aspects thereof are selected, the goal being to achieve a brilliant synthesis. In our current period of globalisation, distinction may be linked to the vanity derived from having visited every ‘famous’ place on Earth. Unless social actors resolutely play the card of cosmopolitan predilections, whereby they boast instead of unconventional destinations and very unusual tastes. In any case, attitudes must be understood in relation to what makes sense in their given context. One comes across configurations where it is particularly difficult to ascribe a definite meaning to practices. I have in mind, for instance, the collection and display of genre paintings, especially images of the poorest sections of the population, in the homes of elite families. We know that this was a widespread phenomenon in seventeenth-century Tuscany or the Netherlands, and a bit later in England. Though visions of poverty were surely commonplace at the time, the question remains as to the point of having images of, say, a drunkard vomiting or urinating in public, a beggar woman picking her child’s hair for lice, but also legless cripples, the hunchbacked or the insane in one’s well-groomed house? Should we assume that prosperous art buyers were looking for a reassuring contrast with their own condition in order to assure themselves of their superiority? This brings to mind the socio-psychological vein of ‘downward

19 Conclusion 

313

social comparisons’ with less fortunate individuals, liable to increase one’s sense of well-being.2 Or was the intention satirical, aiming to amuse guests, and perhaps to deliver a moral message? If, as was sometimes the case, the uncompromising but picturesque quality of the painting proved particularly high, are we to conclude that the aesthetic dimension was essential? This, however, would presuppose an audience able to appreciate beauty in ugliness, so to speak. Even when we do not fully grasp the codes involved, it remains possible to suggest (open-minded) hypotheses, far from ready-made interpretations…

Notes 1. Be they limited to the pride of being the woman chosen by a very coveted man; vigorously cheered in the streets when going to war (as at the beginning of the First World War); or to the vicarious pride of seeing the sports team that one supports triumph. 2. T.A. Wills, ‘Downward Comparisons Principles in Social Psychology’, Psychological Bulletin, vol. 90/2 (1981), pp. 245–271. Within this tradition, however, it has been pointed out that such comparisons may also entail a feeling of vulnerability (related to the fear of losing status). Similarly, research on the contemplation of the socially privileged (‘upward comparisons’) shows that it may be either a source of emulation or, on the contrary, very frustrating.

Bibliography1

ACKERMAN, James S. (1995) The Villa: Form and Ideology of Country Houses (London: Thames & Hudson). ADAMS, Noël (2014) Bright Lights in the Dark Ages: The Thaw Collection of Early Medieval Ornament (New York: The Morgan Library and Museums). ADAMS, Noël, CHERRY, John and ROBINSON, James (2008) Good Impressions: Image and Authority in Medieval Seal (London: British Museum Press). ADAMSON, John (ed.) (1999) The Princely Courts of Europe: Ritual, Politics and Culture under the Ancien Régime 1500–1750 (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson). AJMAR-WOLLHEIM, Marta and DENNIS, Flora (eds) (2006) At Home in Renaissance Italy (London: V & A). ALBRECHT, Donald and FALINO, Jeannine (eds) (2013) Gilded New York: Design, Fashion and Society (New York: Museum of the City of New York). ARBUCKLE, Benjamin S. and McCARTY, Sue Ann (eds) (2014) Animals and Inequality in the Ancient World (Boulder: University of Colorado Press). ARGYLE, Michael and COOK, Mark (1976) Gaze and Mutual Gaze (Cambridge: Cambridge UP). ARIÈS, Paul (2016) Une histoire politique de l’alimentation. Du paléolithique à nos jours (Paris: Max Milo). AUGUSTINE, Dolores L. (1994) Patricians and Parvenus: Wealth and High Society in Wilhelmine Germany (Oxford: Berg). © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 J.-P. Daloz, Expressions of High Status, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3

315

316 Bibliography

BAER, Ronni (ed.) (2015) Class Distinctions: Dutch Paintings in the Age of Rembrandt and Vermeer (Boston: MFA Publications). BARGHEER, Stefan (2006) ‘Fools of the Leisure Class: Ridicule and the Emergence of Animal Protection Legislation in England 1740–1840’, European Journal of Sociology, 47/1, 3–35. BEARD, Mary (2007) The Roman Triumph (Cambridge, MA: Harvard UP). BENTLEY, Nancy (1995) The Ethnography of Manners: Hawthorne, James, Wharton (Cambridge: Cambridge UP). BENTON, Megan L. (2000) Beauty and the Book: Fine Editions and Cultural Distinction in America (New Haven: Yale UP). BERG, Daria and STARR, Chloë (eds) (2007) The Quest for Gentility in China: Negotiations beyond Gender and Class (Abingdon: Routledge). BERGER, Jonah and WARD, Morgan (2010) ‘Subtle Signals of Inconspicuous Consumption’, Journal of Consumer Research, 37/4, 555–569. BIEBUYCK, Daniel P. and VAN DEN ABBELE, Nelly (1984) The Power of Headdresses: A Cross-Cultural Study of Forms and Functions (Brussels: Tendi). BIJKER, Wiebe E. (1997) Of Bicycles, Bakelites, and Bulbs: Toward a Theory of Sociotechnical Change (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press). BLANC, Odile (1997) Parades et parures. L’invention du corps de mode à la fin du Moyen Age (Paris: Gallimard). BLOCH, Maurice (1971) Placing the Dead: Tombs, Ancestral Villages, and Kinship Organization in Madagascar (London: Seminar Press). BODIOU, Lydie et al. (eds) (2011) Parures et artifices. Le corps exposé dans l’antiquité (Paris: L’Harmattan). BOLOGNE, Jean-Claude (2011) Histoire de la coquetterie masculine (Paris: Perrin). BORG, Kevin (1999) ‘“The Chauffeur Problem” in the Early Auto Era: Structuration Theory and the Users of Technology’, Technology and Culture, 40/4, 797–832. BORSAY, Peter and FURNEY, Jan Hein (eds) (2016) Leisure Culture in Urban Europe, c. 1700–1870: A Transnational Perspective (Manchester: Manchester UP). BRADDICK, Michael J. (ed.) (2009) The Politics of Gesture: Historical Perspectives (Oxford: Oxford UP). BRANDES, Stanley (2009) ‘The Meaning of American Pet Cemetery Gravestones’, Ethnology, 48/2, 99–118.

 Bibliography 

317

BRÊME, Dominique and JAMES-SARAZIN, Ariane (2021) Portraits en majesté. François de Troy, Nicolas de Largillierre, Hyacinthe Rigaud (Perpignan: Musée d’art Hyacinthe Rigaud). BRILLIANT, Richard (1963) Gesture and Rank in Roman Art: The Use of Gestures to Denote Status in Roman Sculpture and Coinage (New Haven: Connecticut Academy of Art & Sciences). BRIOT, Eugénie (2015) La fabrique des parfums. Naissance d’une industrie de luxe (Paris: Vendémiaire). BRUN, Patrice (1987) Princes et princesses de la Celtique. Le premier Age du Fer (850–450 av. J.-C.) (Paris: Errance). BURKE, Peter (2020) The Polymath: A Cultural History from Leonardo da Vinci to Susan Sontag (New Haven: Yale UP). BURTON, Elizabeth (1967) The Pageant of Georgian England (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons). CAIRNS, Douglas (ed.) (2005) Body Language in the Greek and Roman Worlds (Swansea: The Classical Press of Wales). CANNADINE, David (1990) The Decline and Fall of the British Aristocracy (New Haven: Yale UP). CANNADINE, David and PRICE, Simon R.F. (eds) (1987) Rituals of Royalty: Power and Ceremony in Traditional Societies (Cambridge: Cambridge UP). CASTELLUCCIO, Stéphane (ed.) (2007) Les fastes de la galerie des glaces. Recueil d’articles du Mercure Galant (1681–1773) (Paris: Payot). CHANG, K.C. (ed.) (1977) Food in Chinese Culture: Anthropological and Historical Perspectives (New Haven: Yale UP). CHASE, Diane Z. and CHASE, Arlen F. (eds) (1992) Mesoamerican Elites: An Archaeological Assessment (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press). CHATENET, Monique (2002) La cour de France au XVIe siècle. Vie sociale et architecture (Paris: Picard). CHAUSSINAND-NOGARET, Guy (ed.) (1991) Histoire des élites en France du XVIe au XXe siècle (Paris: Tallandier). CHEBEL, Malek (1999) Traité du raffinement (Paris: Payot). CHIPMAN, Donald E. (2005) Moctezuma’s Children: Aztec Royalty under Spanish Rule, 1520–1700 (Austin: University of Texas Press). CHRISTA, Boris (1983) ‘Vestimentary Markers in Turgenev’s “Ottsy i deti” (Fathers and Sons)’, New Zealand Slavonic Journal, 1983, 21–36. CHUN, Shin-Yong (ed.) (1982) Upper-class Culture in Yi-dynasty Korea (Seoul: International Cultural Foundation).

318 Bibliography

CIGLIANO, Jan (1991) Showplace of America: Cleveland’s Euclid Avenue, 1850–1910 (Kent: The Kent State UP). CLARKE, D.V., COWIE, T.G. and FOXON, Andrew (1985) Symbols of Power at the Time of Stonehenge (Edinburgh: National Museum of Antiquities of Scotland). CLELAND, Liza et  al. (eds) (2005) The Clothed Body in the Ancient World (Oxford: Oxbow Books). COALDRAKE, William H. (1996) Architecture and Authority in Japan (London: Routledge). COHEN, Joanna (2017) Luxurious Citizens: The Politics of Consumption in Nineteenth-Century America (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press). COHN, Jan (1979) The Palace or the Poorhouse: The American House as a Cultural Symbol (East Lansing: Michigan State UP). (Collective) (1980) Princely Magnificence: Courts Jewels of the Renaissance, 1500–1630 (London: Debrett’s Peerage). (Collective) (2009) Le bain et le miroir. Soins du corps et cosmétiques de l’Antiquité à la Renaissance (Paris: Gallimard). (Collective) (2015) Signes de richesse. Inégalités au néolithique (Lyon: Musée des confluences). (Collective) (2016) Franz Xavier Winterhalter. Portraits de cour. Entre faste et élégance (Paris: Réunion des musées nationaux). CORBIN, Alain (2016) [1982] Le miasme et la jonquille. L’odorat et l’imaginaire social XVIIIe–XIXe siècles (Paris: Flammarion). CORBIN, Alain (ed.) (1995) L’avènement des loisirs, 1850–1960 (Paris: Aubier). CORDWELL, Justine M. and SCHWARZ, Ronald A. (eds) (1979) The Fabrics of Culture: The Anthropology of Clothing and Adornment (The Hague: Mouton). COSANDEY, Fanny (2016) Le rang. Préséances et hiérarchies dans la France d’Ancien Régime (Paris: Gallimard). COUNTS, Derek B. (1996) ‘Regum Externorum Consuetudine: The Nature and Function of Embalming in Rome’, Classical Antiquity, 15/2, 189–202. COURTINE, Jean-Jacques and HAROCHE, Claudine (1988) Histoire du visage. Exprimer et taire ses émotions (XVIe–début XIXe siècle) (Paris: Rivages). COURTOIS, Aline (2018) Elite Schooling and Social Inequality: Privilege and Power in Ireland’s Top Private Schools (London: Palgrave Macmillan). CRAWFORD, T.S. (1970) A History of the Umbrella (Newton Abbot: David & Charles).

 Bibliography 

319

CRÉPIN-LEBLOND, Thierry and ENNÈS, Pierre (eds) (1995) Le dressoir du Prince. Services d’apparat à la Renaissance (Paris: Réunion des musées nationaux). CROWSTON, Clare Haru (2013) Credit, Fashion, Sex: Economies of Regard in Old Regime France (Durham: Duke UP). CURRID-HALKETT, Elizabeth (2017) The Sum of Small Things: A Theory of the Aspirational Class (Princeton: Princeton UP). CURTIN, Michael (1987) Propriety and Position: A Study of Victorian Manners (New York: Garland). DALBY, Andrew (2000) Empire of Pleasures: Luxury and Indulgence in the Roman World (London: Routledge). DALBY, Liza (1993) Kimono: Fashioning Culture (New Haven: Yale UP). D’ALMEIDA, Fabrice (2008) [2006] La vie mondaine sous le nazisme (Paris: Perrin). DANIELS, Stephen (1999) Humphry Repton: Landscape Gardening and the Geography of Georgian England (New Haven: Yale UP). DAVIS, Deborah S. (ed.) (2000) The Consumer Revolution in Urban China (Berkeley: University of California Press). DAVIS, Natalie Zemon (2000) The Gift in Sixteenth-Century France (Oxford: Oxford UP). DAWES, Frank Victor (1989) [1973] Not in Front of the Servants: A True Portrait of Upstairs, Downstairs Life (London: Century). DeJEAN, Joan (2009) The Age of Comfort: When Paris Discovered Casual – And the Modern Home Began (New York: Bloomsbury). DeLUCIA, Laura (2014) ‘Positioning Steinbeck’s Automobiles: Class and Cars in The Grapes of Wrath’, The Steinbeck Review, 11/2, 138–154. de PINA-CABRAL, João and de LIMA, Antónia Pedroso (eds) (2000) Elites: Choice, Leadership and Succession (Oxford: Berg). DERBYSHIRE, Wyn (2011) $ix Tycoons (London: Spiramus). DERRY, Margaret E. (2003) Bred for Perfection: Shorthorn Cattle, Collies, and Arabian Horses since 1800 (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins UP). DEWALD, Jonathan (2015) Status, Power, and Identity in Early Modern France: The Rohan Family, 1550–1715 (University Park: The Pennsylvania State UP). DICKENS, A.G. (1977) The Courts of Europe: Politics, Patronage and Royalty, 1400–1800 (London: Thames & Hudson). DUINDAM, Jeroen (2016) Dynasties: A Global History of Power (Cambridge: Cambridge UP).

320 Bibliography

DUNCAN, Hugh Dalziel (1953) Language and Literature in Society (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press). DUPLOUY, Alain (2006) Le prestige des élites. Recherches sur les modes de reconnaissance sociale en Grèce entre les Xe et Ve siècles avant J.-C. (Paris: Les Belles Lettres). EBERT, Anne-Katrin (2010) ‘Liberating Technologies? Of Bicycles, Balance and the “New Woman” in the 1890s’, Icon, 16, 25–52. EDWARDS, Lydia (2017) How to Read a Dress: A Guide to Changing Fashion from the 16th to the 20th Century (London: Bloomsbury). EKMAN, Paul and ELLSWORTH, Phoebe (eds) (1972) Emotions in the Human Face (New York: Pergamon). EVANS, Susan Toby and PILLSBURY, Joanne (eds) (2004) Palaces of the Ancient New World (Washington: Dumbarton Oaks). FAIRCHILDS, Cissie (1984) Domestic Enemies: Servants & Their Masters in Old Regime France (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins UP). FAIRCHILDS, Cissie (2000) ‘Fashion and Freedom in the French Revolution’, Continuity and Change, 15/3, 419–433. FANTONI, Marcelo et al. (eds) (2009) The Politics of Space: European Courts ca. 1500–1750 (Rome: Bulzoni). FAROQHI, Suraya (2016) A Cultural History of the Ottomans: The Imperial Elite and its Artefacts (London: I.B. Tauris). FAUDEMAY, Alain (1992) La distinction à l’âge classique (Geneva: Slatkine). FEIGENBAUM, Gail (ed.) (2014) Display of Art in the Roman Palace 1550–1750 (Los Angeles: Getty Research Institute). FIRTH, Raymond (1959) [1929] Economics of the New Zealand Maori (Wellington: R.E. Owen, 2nd edition). FISCHER, Nick and van WEES, Hans (eds) (2015) ‘Aristocracy’ in Antiquity: Redefining Greek and Roman Elites (Swansea: The Classical Press of Wales). FITTS, Robert K. (1998) Inventing New England’s Slave Paradise: Master/Slave Relations in Eighteenth-Century Narragansett, Rhode Island (New York: Garland Publ.). FLANDRIN, Jean-Louis (1981) Le sexe et l’Occident. Évolution des attitudes et des comportements (Paris: Le Seuil). FLANDRIN, Jean-Louis and COBBI, Jeanne (eds) (1999) Tables d’hier, tables d’ailleurs. Histoire et ethnologie du repas (Paris: Odile Jacob). FRANK, Robert (2007) Richi$tan: A Journey Through the 21st Century Wealth Boom and the Lives of the New Rich (London: Piatkus).

 Bibliography 

321

FREEDMAN, Paul (2008) Out of the East: Spices and the Medieval Imagination (New Haven: Yale UP). GALINOU, Mireille (ed.) (2004) City Merchants and the Arts 1670–1720 (London: Oblong). GARVER, Valerie L. (2009) Women and Aristocratic Culture in the Carolingian World (Ithaca: Cornell UP). GENET, Jean-Philippe and MINEO, E. Igor (eds) (2014) Le pouvoir symbolique en Occident (1300–1640), vol. VI. Marquer la prééminence sociale (Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne). GHERMANI, Naïma (2009) Le Prince et son portait. Incarner le pouvoir dans l’Allemagne du XVIe siècle (Rennes: Presses Universitaires de Rennes). GODOY, José-A. and LEYDI, Silvio (2003) Parures triomphales. Le maniérisme dans l’art de l’armure italienne (Milan: 5 continents). GOFFMAN, Erving (1976) Gender Advertisements (London: Macmillan). GOLDMAN, Irving (1970) Ancient Polynesian Society (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press). GOODSELL, Charles T. (1988) The Social Meaning of Civic Space: Studying Political Authority through Architecture (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas). GORDON, Matthew S. and HAYN, Kathryn A. (eds) (2017) Concubines and Courtesans: Women and Slavery in Islamic History (Oxford: Oxford UP). GORDON DOTSON, Esther and ASHTON, Mark Richard (2012) J.B. Fischer von Erlach: Architecture as Theater in the Baroque Era (New Haven: Yale UP). GRADDOL, David and SWANN, Joan (1989) Gender Voices (Oxford: Blackwell). GREIG, Hannah (2013) The Beau Monde: Fashionable Society in Georgian England (Oxford: Oxford UP). GREWE, Bernd-Stefan and HOFMEESTER, Karin (eds) (2016) Luxury in Global Perspective: Objects and Practices 1600–2000 (Cambridge: Cambridge UP). GRIER, Katherine C. (2006) Pets in America: A History (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press). GRIFFEY, Erin (2015) On Display: Henrietta Maria and the Materials of Magnificence at the Stuart Court (New Haven: Yale UP). GROOM, Angelica (2018) Exotic Animals in the Art and Culture of the Medici Court in Florence (Leiden: Brill). GROSS, Michael (2014) House of Outrageous Fortune: Fifteen Central Park West, the World’s most Famous Powerful Address (New York: Atria Books). GUANGREN SHEN, Grant (2005) Elite Theatre in Ming China, 1368–1644 (London: Routledge).

322 Bibliography

GUANO, Emanuela (2007) ‘Respectable Ladies and Uncouth Men: The Performative Politics of Class and Gender in the Realm of an Italian City’, The Journal of American Folklore, 120, 48–72. GUARINO, Gabriel (2010) Representing the King’s Splendour: Communication and Reception of Symbolic Forms of Power in Viceregal Naples (Manchester: Manchester UP). GUERZONI, Guido (1999) ‘Liberalitas, Magnificentia, Splendour: The classic Origins of Italian Renaissance lifestyles’, in DE MARCHI, Neil and GOODWIN, Craufurd D.W. (eds) Economic Engagements with Art (Durham: Duke UP). GUNDERSON, Erik (2000) Staging Masculinity: The Rhetoric of Performance in the Roman World (Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press). HALL, Edward T. (1976) Beyond Culture (Garden City: Doubleday). HALL, Edward T. (1983) The Dance of Life (Garden City: Doubleday). HAND MEACHAM, Sarah (2011) ‘Pets, Status, and Slavery in the Late-­ Eighteenth-­Century Chesapeake’, The Journal of Southern History, 77/3, 521–554. HANSER, Amy (2008) Service Encounters: Class, Gender and the Market for Social Distinction in Urban China (Stanford: Stanford UP). HARPER, Kyle (2011) Slavery in the Late Roman World, AD 275–425 (Cambridge: Cambridge UP). HARRISON, Michael (1960) The History of the Hat (London: Herbert Jenkins). HARVEY, John (1997) Men in Black (London: Reaktion Books). HAULMAN, Kate (2011) The Politics of Fashion in Eighteenth-Century America (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press). HAY, Iain (ed.) (2013) Geographies of the Super-Rich (Cheltenham: Edward Elgar). HAY, Iain and BEAVERSTOCK, Jonathan V. (eds) (2016) Handbook on Wealth and the Super-Rich (Cheltenham: Edward Elgar publishers). HAYDEN, Brian (2014) The Power of Feasts: From Prehistory to the Present (Cambridge: Cambridge UP). HAYWARD, Maria (2009) Rich Apparel: Clothing and the Law in Henri VIII’s England (Farnham: Ashgate). HEAL, Felicity (2014) The Power of Gifts: Gift Exchange in Early Modern England (Oxford: Oxford UP). HELMS, Mary W. (1979) Ancient Panama: Chiefs in Search of Power (Austin: University of Texas Press). HENLEY, Nancy M. (1977) Body Politics: Power, Sex & Nonverbal Communication (New York: Simon & Schuster).

 Bibliography 

323

HILLE, Christiane (2012) Visions of the Courtly Body: The Patronage of George Villiers, First Duke of Buckingham and the Triumph of Painting at the Stuart Court (Berlin: Akademie Verlag). HOGG, Michael A. and ABRAMS, Dominic (1988) Social Identifications: A Social Psychology of Intergroup Relations and Group Processes (London: Routledge). HOLDEN SHERWOOD, Jessica (2010) Wealth, Whiteness, and the Matrix of Privilege: The View from the Country Club (Lanham: Lexington Books). HORN, Pamela (1991) Ladies of the Manor: Wives and Daughters in Country-­ House Society, 1830–1918 (Wolfeboro Falls, NH: Alan Sutton). HÜBLER, Axel (1983) Understatements and Hedges in English (Amsterdam/ Philadelphia: John Benjamins Publ.). HUDSON, Kenneth and PETTIFER, Julian (1979) Diamonds in the Sky: A Social History of Air Travel (London: The Bodley Head). HUNT, John Dixon (1986) Garden and Grove: The Italian Renaissance Garden in the English Imagination 1600–1750 (Princeton: Princeton UP). HUNT, John M. (2014) ‘Carriages, Violence, and Masculinity in Early Modern Rome’, I Tatti Studies in the Italian Renaissance, 17/1, 175–196. HYDE, Francis E. (1975) Cunard and the North Atlantic 1840–1973: A History of Shipping and Financial Management (London: Macmillan). IRIGOYEN-GARCIA, Javier (2017) ‘Moors Dressed as Moors’: Clothing, Social Distinction and Ethnicity in Early Modern Iberia (Toronto: University of Toronto Press). IROKO, A. Félix (1992) ‘Le transport en hamac dans le royaume du Danhome du XVIIe au XIXe siècle’, in ALMEIDA-TOPOR, Hélène et  al. (eds) Les transports en Afrique (XIXe-XXe siècle) (Paris: L’Harmattan). JACOBSEN, Helen (2012) Luxury and Power: The Material World of the Stuart Diplomat, 1660–1714 (Oxford: Oxford UP). JEAN-MARIE, Laurence and MANEUVRIER, Christophe (eds) (2010) Distinction et supériorité sociale (Moyen Âge et époque moderne) (Caen: Publications du CRAHM). JOHNES, Martin (2004) ‘Archery, Romance and Elite Culture in England and Wales, c. 1780–1840’, History, 89/2, 193–208. KAISER, Susan B. (1985) The Social Psychology of Clothing and Personal Adornment (New York/London: Macmillan/Collier). KAVANAGH, Thomas (1993) Enlightenment and the Shadows of Chance: The Novel and the Culture of Gambling in Eighteenth-century France (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins UP).

324 Bibliography

KEAVENEY, Arthur (1992) Lucullus: A Life (London: Routledge). KEAY, Anna (2008) The Magnificent Monarch: Charles II and the Ceremonies of Power (London: Continuum). KEEN, Maurice (1984) Chivalry (New Haven: Yale UP). KEENAN, William (ed.) (2001) Dressed to Impress 1840–1914: Looking the Part (Oxford: Berg). KEESING, Félix M. and MARIE, M. (1956) Elite Communication in Samoa: A Study of Leadership (Stanford: Stanford UP). KENDALL, Diana (2002) The Power of Good Deeds: Privileged Women and the Social Reproduction of the Upper Class (Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield). KENDALL, Diana (2008) Members Only: Elite Clubs and the Process of Exclusion (Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield). KIDWELL, Claudia B. and CHRISTMAN, Margaret C. (1974) Suiting Everyone: The Democratization of Clothing in America (Washington: Smithsonian Institution Press). KIPLING, Gordon (1977) The Triumph of Honour: Burgundian Origins of the Elizabethan Renaissance (Leiden: Leiden UP). KLINGENSMITH, Samuel John (1993) The Utility of Splendor: Ceremony, Social Life and Architecture at the Court of Bavaria 1600–1800 (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press). KORNICKI, Peter (1998) The Book in Japan: A Cultural History from the Beginnings to the Nineteenth Century (Leiden: Brill). KORTE, Barbara (1997) [1993] Body Language in Literature (Toronto: University of Toronto Press). KOVESI KILLERBY, Catherine (2002) Sumptuary Law in Italy 1200–1500 (Oxford: Clarendon Press). KRAATZ, Anne (2010) Luxe et luxure à la cour des papes de la Renaissance (Paris: Les belles lettres). KRIZ, Kay Dian (2008) Slavery, Sugar, and the Culture of Refinement: Picturing the West Indies, 1700–1840 (New Haven: Yale UP). KUHN, Annika B. (ed.) (2015) Social Status and Prestige in the Graeco-Roman World (Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag). LANEYRIE-DAGEN, Nadeige and VIGARELLO, Georges (2015) La toilette. Naissance de l’intime (Paris: Hazan). LANGFORD, Paul (1992) A Polite and Commercial People: England 1727–1783 (Oxford: Clarendon Press). LATRÉMOLIÈRE, Élisabeth and QUELLIER, Florent (eds) (2012) Festins de la Renaissance. Cuisine et trésors de la table (Paris: Somogy).

 Bibliography 

325

LAURIOUX, Bruno (1992) ‘Table et hiérarchie sociale à la fin du Moyen Age’, in LAMBERT, Carole (ed.) Du manuscrit à la table. Essais sur la cuisine au Moyen Age et répertoire des manuscrits médiévaux contenant des recettes culinaires (Montreal/Paris: Presses de l’Université de Montréal/ChampionSlatkine), 87–108. LAY, M.G. (1992) Ways of the World: A History of the World’s Roads and of the Vehicles that Used Them (New Brunswick NJ: Rutgers UP). LEE, Soojeong and SHOUSE, Roger C. (2011) ‘The Impact of Prestige Orientation on Shadow Education in South Korea’, Sociology of Education, 84/3, 212–224. Le ROUX, Nicolas (2000) La faveur du roi. Mignons et courtisans au temps des derniers Valois (vers 1547–vers 1589) (Seyssel: Champ Vallon). LIDDIARD, Robert (2016) [2005] Castles in Context: Power, Symbolism and Landscape, 1066 to 1500 (Oxford: Oxbow Books). LOWELL BOWDITCH, Phebe (2001) Horace and the Gift Economy of Patronage (Berkeley: University of California Press). LUCIE-SMITH, Edward (1993) Furniture (London: Thames & Hudson, updated edition). LUCIE-SMITH, Edward and DARS, Celestine (1976) How the Rich Lived: The Painter as Witness 1870–1914 (New York: Paddington Press). MA, John (2013) Statues and Cities: Honorific Portraits and Civic Identity in the Hellenistic World (Oxford: Oxford UP). MacCANNELL, Dean (1999) [1976] The Tourist: A New Theory of the Leisure Class (Berkeley: The University of California Press). MACKAY, James (2000) Fans: Ornaments of Language and Fashion (Edison, NJ: Chartwell Books). MACKIE, Louise W. (2015) Symbols of Power: Luxury Textiles from Islamic Lands, 7th–21st Century (New Haven: Yale UP). MAÎTRE, Myriam (1999) Les précieuses. Naissance des femmes de lettres en France au XVIIe siècle (Paris: Champion). MANNING, Frank E. (1974) ‘Nicknames and Number Plates in the British West Indies’, The Journal of American Folklore, 87, 123–132. MANSEL, Philip (2015) [1987] The Eagle in Splendour: Inside the Court of Napoleon (London: George Philip). MANSEL, Philip (1988) The Court of France 1789–1830 (Cambridge: Cambridge UP). MARENCO, Claudine (1992) Manières de table, modèle de mœurs, 17e–20e siècle (Cachan: Éditions de l’École normale supérieure).

326 Bibliography

MARSHALL, P. David (1997) Celebrity and Power: Fame in Contemporary Society (London: University of Minnesota Press). MARTIN, Toby F. and WEETCH, Rosie (2017) Dress and Society: Contributions from Archaeology (Oxford: Oxbow Books). MARTIN, Wednesday (2015) Primates of Park Avenue: A Memoir (New York: Simon & Schuster). MARWICK, Arthur (1988) Beauty in History: Society, Politics and Best Appearance c. 1500 to the Present (London: Thames & Hudson). MASSEAU, Annick and MASSEAU, Didier (2021) L’escalier de cristal. Le luxe à Paris 1809–1923 (Saint-Rémy en l’Eau: Monelle Hayot). MASSEAU, Didier (2014) Une histoire du bon goût (Paris: Perrin). MAYO, James M. (1998) ‘The American Country Club: An Evolving Landscape’, Journal of Architectural and Planning Research, 15/1, 22–44. McCARTHY, Patricia (2016) Life in the Country House in Georgian Ireland (New Haven: Yale UP). McFARLANE, K.B. (1973) The Nobility of Later Medieval England (Oxford: Clarendon Press). McINTOSH, J.L. (2009) From Heads of Households to Heads of State: The Preaccession Households of Mary and Elizabeth Tudor, 1516–1558 (New York: Columbia UP). McLEOD, Catharine and MARCIARI ALEXANDER, Julia (2001) Painted Ladies: Women at the Court of Charles II (London: National Portrait Gallery). McMASTER, Juliet (2004) Reading the Body in the Eighteenth-Century Novel (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan). McNEIL, Peter and RIELLO, Giorgio (2016) Luxury: A Rich History (Oxford: Oxford UP). MEARS, Ashley (2015) ‘Girls as Elite Distinction: The Appropriation of Bodily Capital’, Poetics, 53, 22–35. MEHRABIAN, Albert (1971) Silent Messages (Belmont, CA: Wadsworth Publishing). MEISS-EVEN, Marjorie (2013) Les Guise et leur paraître (Rennes/Tours: Presses Universitaires de Rennes & Presses Universitaires François-Rabelais). MILLER, Daniel (1994) Modernity: An Ethnographic Approach – Dualism and Mass Consumption in Trinidad (Oxford: Berg publishers). MONNET, Pierre (1997) Les Rohrbach de Francfort. Pouvoirs, affaires et parenté à l’aube de la Renaissance allemande (Geneva: Droz). MONTGOMERY, Maureen E. (1998) Displaying Women: Spectacles of Leisure in Edith Wharton’s New York (New York: Routledge).

 Bibliography 

327

MONTROSE, Louis A. (1999) ‘Idols of the Queen: Policy, Gender and the Picturing of Elizabeth I’, Representations, 68, 108–161. MORGAN, Marjorie (1994) Manners, Morals and Class in England 1774–1858 (New York: St Martin’s Press). MORRIS, Desmond et al. (1979) Gestures: Their Origins and Distribution (London: Jonathan Cape). MORRISON, Heather (2011) ‘Dressing Angelo Soliman’, Eighteenth-Century Studies, 44/3, 361–382. MOSS, Richard J. (2001) Golf and the Country Club (Urbana: University of Illinois Press). MUGGLESTONE, Lynda (2003) Talking Proper: The Rise of Accent as a Social Symbol (Oxford: Oxford UP, second edition). MUNHALL, Edgar (1995) Whistler and Montesquieu: The Butterfly and the Bat (New York: The Frick Collection). MUNN, Geoffrey (2002) Tiaras: Past and Present (London: V&A Publ.). MUNNS, Jessica, RICHARDS, Penny and SPANGLER, Jonathan (eds) (2015) Aspiration, Representation and Memory: The Guise in Europe, 1506–1688 (Farnham: Ashgate). MURRAY, Venetia (1998) High Society: A Social History of the Regency Period, 1788–1830 (London: Viking). NEEDHAM, Rodney (ed.) (1973) Right and Left: Essays on Symbolic Classification (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press). NELSON, Jonathan K. and ZECKHAUSER, Richard J. (eds) (2008) The Patron’s Payoff: Conspicuous Commissions in Italian Renaissance Art (Princeton: Princeton UP). NEWTON, William Ritchey (2000) L’espace du roi. La cour de France au château de Versailles 1682–1789 (Paris: Fayard). NEWTON, William Ritchey (2006) La petite cour. Service et serviteurs à la cour de Versailles au XVIIIe siècle (Paris: Fayard). NOUVEL-KAMMERER, Odile (ed.) (2007) Symbols of Power: Napoleon and the Art of the Empire style 1800–1815 (New York: Abrams). OLKO, Justyna (2014) Insignia of Rank in the Nahua World (Boulder: University of Colorado Press). ORY, Pascal (2018) L’invention du bronzage (Paris: Flammarion, second edition). OSTRANDER, Susan (1984) Women of the Upper Class (Philadelphia: Temple UP). PERSSONS, Helen (2015) Shoes: Pleasure and Pain (London: V&A Publ.).

328 Bibliography

PFLUGFELDER, Gregory M. and WALKER, Brett L. (eds) (2005) JAPANimals: History and Culture in Japan’s Animal Life (Ann Arbor: Center for Japanese Studies, The University of Michigan). PHILLIPS, Clare (1996) Jewelry: From Antiquity to the Present (London: Thames & Hudson). PIERAGNOLI, Joan (2016) La cour de France et ses animaux (XVIe–XVIIe siècles) (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France). PIERAGNOLI, Joan (2021) Le prince et les animaux. Une histoire zoologique de la cour de Versailles au siècle des Lumières (1715–1792) (Bruxelles: Éditions de l’Université de Bruxelles). PIGGOTT, Stuart (1992) Wagon, Chariot and Carriage: Symbol and Status in the History of Transport (London: Thames & Hudson). PIPONNIER, Françoise (1970) Costume et vie sociale. La cour d’Anjou, XIVe– XVe siècles (The Hague/Paris: Mouton/EHESS). PIPONNIER, Françoise and MANE, Perrine (1995) Se vêtir au Moyen Age (Paris: Adam Biro). PITELKA, Morgan (2016) Spectacular Accumulation: Material culture, Tokugawa Ieyasu, and Samurai Sociability (Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press). PONTET, Josette (ed.) (1999) A la recherche de la considération sociale (Bordeaux: Maison des Sciences de l’Homme d’Aquitaine). PONTET, Josette, FIGEAC, Michel and BOISSON, Marie (eds) (2002) La noblesse de la fin du XVIe au début du XXe siècle. Un modèle social ? (2 volumes) (Anglet: Atlantica). RAO, Velcheru Narayana, SHULMAN, David and SUBRAHMANYAM, Sanjay (1991) Symbols of Substance: Court and State in Nayaka Period Tamilnadu (Delhi: Oxford UP). RAPOPORT, Amos (1969) House Form and Culture (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall). RAY, Raka and QAYUM, Seemin (2009) Cultures of Servitude: Modernity, Domesticity and Class in India (Stanford: Stanford UP). REINHOLD, Meyer (1969) ‘On Status Symbols in the Ancient World’, The Classical Journal, 64/7, 300–304. REINHOLD, Meyer (1971) ‘Usurpation of Status and Status Symbols in the Roman Empire’, Historia, 20/2–3, 275–302. RIBEIRO, Aileen (1986) Dress and Morality (London: Batsford). RIBEIRO, Aileen (2011) Facing Beauty: Painted Women & Cosmetic Art (New Haven: Yale UP).

 Bibliography 

329

RIBEIRO, Aileen with BLACKMAN, Cally (2015) A Portrait of Fashion: Six Centuries of Dress at the National Portrait Gallery (London: National Portrait Gallery). RICCA, Manfredi and ROBINS, Rebecca (eds) (2012) Meta-Luxury: Brands and the Culture of Excellence (Basingstoke: Palgrave). RIELLO, Giorgio and McNEIL, Peter (eds) (2006) Shoes: A History from Sandals to Sneakers (Oxford: Berg). RITVO, Harriet (1987) The Animal Estate: The English and Other Creatures in the Victorian Age (Cambridge, MA: Harvard UP). ROBBINS, Louise E. (2002) Elephant Slaves and Pampered Parrots: Exotic Animals in Eighteenth-Century Paris (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins UP). ROCHE, Daniel and REYTIER, Daniel (eds) (2000) Voitures, chevaux et atte­ lages du XVIe au XIXe siècle (Versailles: Château de Versailles). ROLLER, Matthew (2006) Dining Posture in Ancient Rome: Bodies, Values, and Status (Princeton: Princeton UP). ROOT, Regina (ed.) (2005) The Latin American Fashion Reader (Oxford: Berg). ROTH, Joshua Hotaka (2012) ‘Heartfelt Driving: Discourses on Manners, Safety, and Emotion in Japan’s Era of Mass Motorization’, The Journal of Asian Studies, 71/1, 171–192. RUBINI, Constance (2013) Domestic and Ceremonial Glassware from the Renaissance to the 19th Century: The du Mesnil Collection (Paris: Norma). RUBINSTEIN, Ruth P. (1995) Dress Codes: Meanings and Messages in American Culture (Boulder: Westview). RUPP, Katherine (2003) Gift-Giving in Japan: Cash, Collections, Cosmologies (Stanford: Stanford UP). RUSSELL, Penny (1998) A Wish of Distinction: Colonial Gentility and Femininity (Melbourne: Melbourne UP). SABATIER, Gérard (2010) Le prince et les arts. Stratégies figuratives de la monarchie française de la Renaissance aux Lumières (Seyssel: Champ Vallon). SAHLINS, Marshall D. (1958) Social Stratification in Polynesia (Seattle: University of Washington Press). SARASIN, Philippe (1998) La ville des bourgeois. Élites et société urbaine à Bâle dans la deuxième moitié du XIXe siècle (Paris: L’Harmattan). SASLOW, James M. (1996) The Medici Wedding of 1589: Florentine Festival as Theatrum Mundi (New Haven: Yale UP). SATLOW, Michael L. (ed.) (2013) The Gift in Antiquity (Chichester: Wiley Blackwell).

330 Bibliography

SCAGLIONE, Aldo (1991) Knights at Court: Courtliness, Chivalry and Courtesy from Ottonian Germany to the Italian Renaissance (Berkeley: University of California Press). SCHALK, Ellery (1986) From Valor to Pedigree: Ideas of Nobility in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Century (Princeton: Princeton UP). SCHARFF, Virginia (1991) Taking the Wheel: Women and the Coming of the Motor Age (New York: The Free Press). SCHLESSINGER, Arthur M. (1947) Learning How to Behave: A Historical Study of American Etiquette Books (New York: Macmillan). SCHMITT PANTEL, Pauline (2011) [1992] La cité au banquet. Histoire des repas publics dans les cités grecques (Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne). SCHWARTZ, Barry (1975) Queuing and Waiting: Studies in the Social Organization of Access and Delay (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press). SCHWARTZ, Barry (1981) Vertical Classification: A study in Structuralism and the Sociology of Knowledge (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press). SCOTT, Jennifer (2010) The Royal Portrait: Image and Impact (London: Royal Collections Publications). SECREST, Meryle (2004) Duveen: A Life in Art (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press). SHERMAN, Rachel (2007) Class Acts: Service Inequality in Luxury Hotels (Berkeley: University of California Press). SHERMAN, Rachel (2017) Uneasy Street: The Anxieties of Affluence (Princeton: Princeton UP). SHUTT, Allisson K. (2015) Manners Make a Nation: Racial Etiquette in Southern Rhodesia (Rochester: University of Rochester Press). SOMBART, Nicolaus (1992) Chroniques d’une jeunesse berlinoise (Paris: Quai Voltaire). SPIEGEL, John and MACHOTKA, Pavel (1974) Messages of the Body (New York: The Free Press). SQUIRE, Geoffrey (1974) Dress, Art and Society 1560–1970 (London: Studio Vista). STEELE, Valerie and MAJOR, John S. (1999) China Chic: East Meets West (New Haven: Yale UP). STERNBERG, Giora (2014) Status Interaction during the Reign of Louis XIV (Oxford: Oxford UP). STIMMEL, Barry (ed.) (1984) Alcohol and Drug Abuse in the Affluent (New York: Haworth Press).

 Bibliography 

331

STRATHERN, Andrew and STRATHERN, Marilyn (1971) Self-Decoration on Mount Hagen (London: Duckworth). STRAUS, Ralph (1912) Carriages & Coaches: Their History & their Evolution (London: Martin Secker). STRONG, Roy C. (1973) Splendour at Court: Renaissance Spectacle and the Theater of Power (Boston: Houghton Mifflin). STRONG, Roy C. (1979) The Renaissance Garden in England (London: Thames & Hudson). STRONG, Roy C. (2003) [1987] Gloriana: The Portraits of Queen Elizabeth I (London: Pimlico). STYLES, John (2007) The Dress of the People: Everyday Fashion in Eighteenth-­ Century England (New Haven: Yale UP). SUTHERLAND, Daniel E. (1981) Americans and their Servants: Domestic Service in the United States from 1800 to 1920 (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State UP). SYMES, Michael (2012) The Picturesque and the Later Georgian Garden (Bristol: Redcliffe). TABORIN, Yvette (2004) Langage sans parole. La parure aux temps préhistoriques (Paris: La maison des roches). TAGUE, Ingrid H. (2015) Animal Companions: Pets and Social Change in Eighteenth-Century Britain (University Park: Penn State UP). TARLO, Emma (1996) Clothing Matters: Dress and Identity in India (London: Hurst). THOEN, Irma (2007) Strategic Affection? Gift Exchange in Seventeenth-Century Holland (Amsterdam: Amsterdam UP). THORNTON, Peter (1984) Authentic Decor: The Domestic Interior, 1620–1920 (New York: Viking Press). THRUPP, G.A. (1969) [1877] The History of Coaches (Amsterdam: Meridian Publ.). THURLOW, Crispin and JAWORSKI, Adam (eds) (2018) Elite Discourse: The Rhetorics of Status, Privilege, and Power (Abingdon: Routledge). TREADWELL, Sarah (1999) ‘Categorical Viewings: European Representations of the Architecture of the Hakari’, in CALDER, Alex, LAMB, Jonathan and ORR, Bridget (eds) Voyages and Beaches: Pacific Encounters, 1769–1840 (Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press). TREMBLAY, Martine (2001) Le mariage dans la vallée du Haut-Richelieu. Ritualité et distinction sociale (Sainte-Foy: Les Presses de l’Université Laval).

332 Bibliography

TRENTMAN, Frank (ed.) (2012) The Oxford Handbook of the History of Consumption (Oxford: Oxford UP). TRENTMAN, Frank (2016) Empire of Things (London: Allen Lane). TUAN, Yi-Fu (1984) Dominance and Affection: The Making of Pets (New Haven: Yale UP). TURNER, Roger (1999) Capability Brown and the Eighteenth-Century English Landscape (Chichester: Phillimore). UNDERDOWN, David (2000) Start of Play: Cricket and Culture in Eighteenth-­ Century England (London: Allen Lane). ÜSTÜNER, Tuba and HOLT, Douglas B. (2010) ‘Toward a Theory of Status Consumption in Less Industrialized Countries’, Journal of Consumer Research, 37/1, 37–56. Van CUTSEM, Anne (2005) Parures de tête ethniques d’Afrique, d’Asie, d’Océanie et d’Amérique (Torino: Skira). VASILJEVIC, Vera (2015) ‘How Many Porters?’, Egypt and the Levant, 25, 509–535. VIALA, Alain (2008) La France galante. Essai historique sur une catégorie culturelle des origines jusqu’à la Révolution (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France). VIÉVILLE, Camille (2017) Le portrait nu (Paris: Arkhê). VIGARELLO, Georges (2010) Les métamorphoses du gras. Histoire de l’obésité (Paris: Le Seuil). VIGARELLO, Georges (2017) La robe. Une histoire culturelle du Moyen Age à aujourd’hui (Paris: Le Seuil). VISCHER, Michael P. (ed.) (2009) Precedence: Social Differentiation in the Austronesian World (Canberra: ANU Press). VOILLOT, Patrick (1997) Diamants et pierres précieuses (Paris: Gallimard). WALLACE-HADRILL, Andrew (2008) Rome’s Cultural Revolution (Cambridge: Cambridge UP). WARNKE, Martin (1989) [1985] L’artiste et la cour. Aux origines de l’artiste moderne (Paris: Éditions de la Maison des Sciences de l’Homme). WATSON, James L. (1987) ‘From the Common Pot: Feasting with Equals in Chinese Society’, Anthropos, 82, 389–401. WEBER, Caroline (2006) Queen of Fashion: What Marie-Antoinette Wore to the Revolution (New York: Henry Holt and Company). WEINER, Annette (1992) Inalienable Possessions: The Paradox of Keeping while Giving (Berkeley: University of California Press). WEINER, Annette and SCHNEIDER, Jane (eds) (1989) Cloth and Human Experience (Washington: Smithsonian Institution Press).

 Bibliography 

333

WEISFELD, Glenn E. and BERESFORD, Jody M. (1982) ‘Erectness of Posture as an Indicator of Dominance or Success in Humans’, Motivation and Emotion, 6/2, 113–131. WELCH, Evelyn S. (2005) Shopping in the Renaissance: Consumer Cultures in Italy 1400–1600 (New Haven: Yale UP). WHELAN, Fiona (2017) The Making of Manners and Morals in Twelfth-Century England: The Book of the Civilised Man (Abingdon: Routledge). WHYMAN, Susan E. (1999) Sociability and Power in Late-Stuart England: The Cultural Worlds of the Verneys 1660–1720 (Oxford: Oxford UP). WIERZBICKA, Anna (1999) Emotions Across Languages and Cultures: Diversity and Universals (Cambridge: Cambridge UP). WIJSMAN, Hanno (2010) Luxury Bound: Illustrated Manuscripts and Noble and Princely Book Ownership in the Burgundian Netherlands (1400–1550) (Turnhout: Brepols). WILKINS, John (2000) The Boastful Chef: The Discourse of Food in Ancient Greek Comedy (Oxford: Oxford UP). WILLIAMS, Susan (1996) Savory Suppers and Fashionable Feasts: Dining in Victorian America (Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press). WILSON, Peter J. (1988) The Domestication of Human Species (New Haven: Yale UP). WITTKOWER, Margot and WITTKOWER, Rudolf (2007) [1963] Born under Saturn: The Character and Conduct of Artists (New York: New  York Review Books). WOODBRIDGE, Kenneth (1986) Princely Gardens: The Origins and Development of the French Formal Style (New York: Thames & Hudson). WYATT-BROWN, Bertram (2007) Southern Honor: Ethics and Behavior in the Old South (New York: Oxford UP, 2nd edition). YANG, Mayfair Mei-Hui (1994) Gifts, Favors, and Banquets: The Art of Social Relationships in China (Ithaca: Cornell UP). YOU, Yao-Fen (ed.) (2016) Coffee, Tea, and Chocolate: Consuming the World (New Haven: Yale UP). ZEINER, Noelle K. (2005) Nothing Ordinary Here: Statius as Creator of Distinction in the Silvae (New York: Routledge). ZOBERMAN, Pierre (1998) Les cérémonies de la parole. L’éloquence d’apparat en France dans le dernier quart du XVIIe siècle (Paris: Champion). ZUIDERHOEK, Arjan (2009) The Politics of Munificence in the Roman Empire: Citizens, Elites and Benefactors in Asia Minor (Cambridge: Cambridge UP).

334 Bibliography

Note 1. Here, I have deliberately brought together references that were not included in my two previous volumes on the topic, with an emphasis on works of a rather empirical nature. I invite readers in search of other books and articles (especially, but not only, those with a more theoretical bent) to consult the bibliographies at the end of The Sociology of Elite Distinction and Rethinking Social Distinction.

Name Index1

A

Abramovich, Roman, 140n22 Abrams, Dominic, 173n5 Adams, Sophia, 7n3 Alberti, Leon Battista, 233 Alexander, King of Macedon, 248 Alexandra of Denmark (Queen consort of the United Kingdom), 15n3 Ambani, Mukesh, 43 Antigonus ‘the One-Eyed,’ 233 Apelles, 233 Arbuckle, Benjamin S., 252n4 Arden, Elizabeth, 133 Ariès, Philippe, 184 Aristotle, 14n1, 310n8 Arlington, Henry Bennet (1st Earl of ), 126

1

Ashton, Mark Richard, 207n3 Augustine, Dolores L., 207n5 Augustus, 96, 127 B

Baer, Ronni, 92n17 Bahl, Vinay, 36n8 Baker, Paul R., 55n7 Barthes, Roland, 69n12 Basbanes, Nicholas A., 174n16 Baudrillard, Jean, 92n19 Beard, Mary, 291n12 Beaverstock, Jonathan V., 70n17 Beckert, Sven, 55n14 Bellini, Giovanni, 233 Bentley, Nancy, 61, 155n21 Benton, Megan L., 174n15

Note: Page numbers followed by ‘n’ refer to notes.

© Te Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 J.-P. Daloz, Expressions of High Status, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3

335

336

Name Index

Beresford, Jody M., 123n4 Berg, Daria, 154n15, 195n22 Bertin, Rose, 230 Bijker, Wiebe E., 69n8 Birdwhistell, Ray, 269, 276n11 Bloch, Maurice, 104n3 Bloomer, Amelia, 69n9 Boardman, John, 68n3 Boas, Franz, 105n14 Bocuse, Paul, 83 Boleyn, Anne, 185 Bonaparte, Élisa, 193 Bonaparte, Pauline, 193 Borg, Kevin, 225n19 Bormann, Gorda, 192 Bossuet, Jacques-Bégnine, 166 Boucher, François, 59 Bourdieu, Pierre, ixn1, 7n5, 37n15, 83, 108, 113, 123n1, 144, 159, 168, 173n1, 256, 257n1, 309n2 Bouza, Fernando, 223n3 Braddick, Michael J., 275n10 Brambilla, Elena, 154n6 Brandes,Stanley, 106n18 Bremmer, Jan, 275n10 Briot, Eugénie, 140n18 Brook, Timothy, 92n21 Brown, ‘capability’, 49 Brown, Jonathan, 239n12 Brummell, ‘Beau’, 20, 33, 133 Budd, Lucy, 70n17 Bulwer-Lytton, Edward George, 139n11 Burke, Edmund, 139n11 Burke, John, 288 Burke, Peter, 154n8, 275n10 Bushman, Richard L., 41, 154n8

C

Caesar, Julius, 33 Caligula, 291n9 Capone, Al, 224n13 Carême, Marie-Antoine, 84 Carnegie, Andrew, 172, 224n13 Castiglione, Baldassare, 115, 117, 123n5, 151, 269 Castlemaine, Roger (1st Earl of ), 68n1 Catherine II (Empress of Russia), 193 Catherine of Aragon (Queen of England), 185, 299 Chaiklin, Martha, 253n10 Chanel, ‘Coco’, 135 Chaplin, Charlie, 20 Charles I (King of England), 122, 239n12 Charles II (King of England), 127, 239n9, 248 Charles V (Holy Roman Emperor), 127 Charles V (King of France), 90n4, 169 Charles VI (Holy Roman Emperor), 198 Chatenet, Monique, 291n8, 310n13 Chaucer, Geofrey, 68n4 Christa, Boris, 224n4 Christman, Margaret C., 36n11 Cicero, 266, 310n8 Cigliano, Jan, 55n13 Clarke, John R., 194n13 Coaldrake, William H., 54n5 Colette, 160 Columbus, Christopher, 225n15 Corbin, Alain, 134

Name Index

Cortés, Hernán, 301 Cosandey, Fanny, 90n7, 154n13, 288, 291n10, 292n21 Cottereau-Gabillet, Émilie, 174n12 Counts, Derek B., 105n5 Courtois, Aline, 173n9 Crawford, T.S., 123n7 Cromwell, Oliver, 233 Crook, Joseph Mordaunt, 55n9 Crowley, John, 123n6 Crowston, Clare Haru, 195n19, 239n4 Currid-Halkett, Elizabeth, 139n15 Curtin, Michael, 154n12 D

Dalby, Liza, 124n14 Dante, 80, 233 Darwin, Charles, 126, 259 Daun, Åke, 154n14 de Berry, Jean (Duke), 169 DeJean, Joan, 123n6 Della Francesca, Piero, 233 de Lima, Antónia Pedroso, 193n2 DeLucia, Laura, 68n4 Demougin, Ségolène, 292n17 de Pina-Cabral, João, 193n2 Destemberg, Antoine, 291n11 Dickens, Charles, 262 Dodge, Anna Tomson, 237 du Barry (Countess), 192 Duindam, Jeroen, 154n6, 290n7 Duncan, James S., 54n1 Duplouy, Alain, 105n11, 193n1, 195n20, 292n21 Duveen, Joseph, 239n14

337

E

Edward VII (King of the United Kingdom), 15n3, 134 Elias, Norbert, 142, 145, 151, 153n5, 218, 266 Elizabeth I (Queen of England), 33, 127, 185, 194n9, 310n12 Erasmus, 80, 151, 152, 310n8 Escobar, Pablo, 252n8 Evans, Hilary, 208n8 Evans, Mary, 208n8 F

Factor, Max, 133 Fairchilds, Cissie, 224n5 Fantoni, Marcelo, 290n7 Faroqhi, Suraya, 92n23 Faudemay, Alain, 252n1 Federico III da Montefeltro (Duke of Urbino), 233 Feigenbaum, Gail, 56n19 Felipe IV (King of Spain), 239n12, 268 Ferdinand II (Archduke of Tyrol), 185 Ferdinand III (Holy Roman Emperor), 167 Ferrières, Madeleine, 91n15 Firth, Raymond, 140n19, 275n2, 309n3 Fischer von Erlach, Johann Bernhard, 198 Fitts, Robert K., 225n16 Fitzgerald, Francis Scott, 44, 170 Flügel, John Carl, 36n12 Fogarty-Valenzuela, Benjamin, 55n8

338

Name Index

Foucault, Michel, 142, 147, 173n1, 266 François I (King of France), 69n7 Frank, Robert, 70n15 Freeland, Chrystia, 173n7 G

Gaddaf, Muammar, 252n8 Gainsborough, Tomas, 238 Garver, Valerie L., 194n6 Gaztambide-Fernandez, Rubén A., 173n8 Geertz, Cliford, 6 Genet, Jean-Philippe, 174n12, 291n11 Genlis, Félicité de, 190 Giddens, Anthony, 257n1 Gofman, Erving, 13, 138n2, 142, 207n1, 255, 275n2, 276n12 Goldman, Irving, 138n5 Goncourt, Edmond & Jules de, 170, 171 Goodsell, Charles T., 291n10 Goody, Jack, 83 Gordon, Matthew S, 195n22, 310n15 Gordon Dotson, Esther, 207n3 Göring, Carin & Hermann, 245 Graddol, David, 275n7 Grandcoing, Philippe, 54n4 Granet, Marcel, 292n22 Greig, Hannah, 38n21 Grier, Katherine C., 253n16 Groom, Angelica, 252n7 Gross, Michael, 55n15

Guarino, Gabriel, 174n11 Guerzoni, Guido, 91n11 H

Hall, Edward T., 271 Hand Meacham, Sarah, 253n12 Hansen, Karen, 36n8 Hardy, Tomas, 194n10 Harper, Kyle, 224n7 Hay, Iain, 70n17 Hayden, Brian, 89n1 Hayn, Kathryn A., 195n22, 310n15 Hayward, Maria, 37n19 Heal, Felicity, 309n6 Hearst, William Randolph, 252n8 Heinich, Nathalie, 239n3 Helms, Mary W., 15n5, 195n15 Henri I (Duke of Guise, ‘scarface’), 126 Henri III (King of France), 76, 88 Henri IV (King of France), 122 Henry VII (King of England), 173n2 Henri VIII (King of England), 37n19, 173n2, 185, 299 Herodotus, 125, 214 Hille, Christiane, 124n20 Hitler, Adolf, 51, 192 Hobbes, Tomas, 310n8 Hogg, Michael A., 173n5 Holden Sherwood, Jessica, 208n10 Horace, 238n1 Horn, Pamela, 224n8 Hoss, Stefanie, 124n15 Hudson, Kenneth, 69n14

Name Index

Hugo, Victor, 105n6 Hume, David, 14n1 Hunt, John M., 290n4 Hunt, Richard Morris, 55n7 I

Innocent X (Pope), 234 Irigoyen-Garcia, Javier, 15n6 Iroko, A. Félix, 70n23 Isabeau of Bavaria (Queen of France), 136

339

Kissinger, Henry, 187 Kornicki, Peter, 174n14 Korte, Barbara, 275n5 Kouamé, Tierry, 291n11 Kovesi Killeby, Catherine, 37n19 Kriz, Kay Dian, 139n7 Kroeber, Alfred, 87 Krupp family, 43 Kuhn, Annika B., 90n6, 292n17 Kurosawa, Akira, 275n9 Kwan, Kevin, 36n6 L

J

Jacobsen, Helen, 68n1 Jaeger, C. Stephen, 153n5 James I (King of England), 42, 122, 217, 272, 296 James II (King of England), 68n1 James, Henry, 262 Jameson, Leander Starr, 310n10 Jean-Marie, Laurence, 105n12, 292n16 Johnes, Martin, 208n13 Julius II (Pope), 230 Justinian I (Byzantine Emperor), 236 Juvenal, 181 K

Kadyrov, Ramzan, 252n8 Kantorowicz, Ernst H., 105n4 Kasson, John F., 154n17 Kendall, Diana, 208n11 Khan, Shamus Rahman, 173n8 Kidwell,Claudia B., 36n11 Kipling, Gordon, 173n2

La Bruyère, Jean de, 80 La Fontaine, Jean de, 290n1 Laneyrie-Dagen, Nadeige, 139n14 Lauder, Estée, 134 Laurioux, Bruno, 90n7 Lawrence, Kay, 56n18 Lawrence, Tomas, 238 Lay, M.G., 70n16 Lely, Peter, 234 Leopold I (Holy Roman Emperor), 167, 236 Lévi-Strauss, Claude, 25, 89n2, 188 Levit, William, 42 Lilti, Antoine, 124n16 Limbourg brothers, 229 Lindow, James R., 55n12 Littré, Paul-Émile, 55n16 Lobengula (King of the Ndebele), 310n10 Lorrain, Claude, 49 Louis IX (King of France), 100, 298 Louis XIV (King of France), 161, 199, 234, 294, 309n4 Louis XV (King of France), 192

340

Name Index

Louis-Philippe (King of France), 145 Lowell Bowditch, Phebe, 238n1 Lucullus, 47, 174n12 M

Ma, John, 105n10 Mackie, Louise W., 54n2 Maecenas, 33, 228 Major, John S., 281 Mandeville, Bernard, 14n1 Mane, Perrine, 35n3 Maneuvrier, Christophe, 105n12, 292n16 Manning, Frank E., 70n21 Marcus Aurelius, 58 Marcus, George E., 193n2 Marenco, Claudine, 92n18 Marie-Antoinette (Queen of France), 121, 124n18, 129, 199, 230, 237, 242 Marquand, John P., 8n7 Martial, 238n1 Martin, Wednesday, 278 Martin-Fugier, Anne, 207n5, 223n2 Mary I (Queen of England), 185, 194n9 Mauss, Marcel, 293, 298, 301, 309n1 Mazarin, Jules (Cardinal), 239n12 McCarty, Sue Ann, 252n4 McDonogh, Gary Wray, 105n8 McIntosh, J.L., 194n9 McMaster, Juliet, 275n5 McNeil, Peter, 15n3, 36n10 Medici, Marie de, 122 Mehmet II (Sultan of the Ottoman Empire), 233

Meiss-Even, Marjorie, 177n1, 310n9 Merton, Robert K., 69n12 Messalina, 193 Michelangelo, 230 Miller, Daniel, 70n21 Mineo, E. Igor, 174n12, 291n11 Mitford, Nancy, 87 Moctezuma II (Aztec Emperor), 301 Molière, 190 Morgan, John Pierpont, 172, 204 Morgan, Marjorie, 155n20 Morrison, Heather, 224n11 Mugglestone, Lynda, 173n3 Muhammad (Prophet), 306 Munhall, Edgar, 239n13 Murphy, Raymond, 207n4 Mustonen, Liina, 140n21 Muzzarelli, Maria Giuseppina, 36n10 N

Napoleon I (Emperor of France), 51, 69n6, 144, 193, 225n18, 270, 272 Napoleon III (Emperor of France), 77 Nero, 96, 133, 134 Nietzsche, Friedrich, 245 O

Oakes ,Guy, 195n23 Olko, Justyna, 252n5 O’Neil, Kevin Lewis, 55n8 Opler, Morris E., 70n23 Orléans, Philippe d’ (Regent of the Kingdom of France), 218 Ory, Pascal, 139n9 Ovid, 132, 195n21

Name Index P

Palmer, Barbara (Countess of Castlemaine), 239n9 Pericles, 233 Peter I the Great (Emperor of Russia), 217, 218 Pettifer, Julian, 69n14 Pfugfelder, Gregory M., 253n10 Phidias, 228 Philip the Good (Duke of Burgundy), 170 Pieragnoli, Joan, 253n11 Piggott, Stuart, 68n2 Pindar, 180, 238n1 Piponnier, Françoise, 35n3 Pitelka, Morgan, 92n16, 310n16 Pliny the Younger, 49, 222 Pompadour, Madame de, 237 Poppaea Sabina, 96, 133 Poussin, Nicolas, 239n12 Presley, Elvis, 63 Q

Qayum, Seemin, 224n10, 276n13 Qin Shi Huang (frst Qin Emperor), 99 Quintilian, 123n10, 266 R

Rapoport, Amos, 54n3 Rappaport, Erika, 194n5 Raven, Simon, 208n6 Ray, Raka, 224n10, 276n13 Raynal, Guillaume Tomas, 47 Repton, Humphry, 49 Reynolds, Joshua, 238 Reytier, Daniel, 68n5

341

Rhodes, Cecil, 310n10 Ricca, Manfredi, 15n8 Riello, Giorgio, 15n3, 36n10 Ritvo, Harriet, 253n13 Roach, Joseph, 239n9 Robbins, Louise E., 253n9 Robins, Rebecca, 15n8 Roche, Daniel, 68n5, 253n11 Rolin, Nicolas (Chancellor to the Duke of Burgundy), 229 Roller, Matthew, 276n14 Roodenburg, Herman, 275n10 Roth, Joshua Hotaka, 155n19 Rubens, Pierre Paul, 128 Rubinstein, Helena, 133 Rupp, Katherine, 310n11 S

Sabatier, Gérard, 194n8 Sahlins, Marshall, 279, 309n4 Satlow, Michael L., 309n7 Saunders, Edith, 239n5 Scaglione, Aldo, 154n11 Schiefenhövel, Wulf, 90n3 Schlessinger, Arthur M., 154n16 Schwartz, Barry, 276n12, 292n20 Scorsese, Martin, 208n13 Secrest, Meryle, 239n14 Seneca, 169, 310n8 Shakespeare, William, 70n18, 275n7 Shaw, George Bernard, 160 Sherman, Rachel, 220, 221 Shukla, Shaligram, 70n23 Shutt, Allisson K., 154n10, 290n2 Simmel, Georg, 26, 195n23 Smindyrides, 214 Smith, Bonnie G., 193n4

342

Name Index

Sombart, Nicolaus, 170, 194n11, 251 Sombart, Werner, 170, 190 Sorel, Agnès, 239n9 Spencer, Herbert, 13, 138n2, 145 Squire, Geofrey, 37n17 Starr, Chloë, 154n15, 195n22 Statius, 232, 233, 238n1 Steele, Valerie, 124n12 Steinbeck, John, 7n6, 68n4 Sternberg, Giora, 224n12, 284, 292n18, 292n21 Stewart, Alexander Turney, 105n15 Storm, Penny, 36n5 Strathern, Andrew, 38n20 Strathern, Marilyn, 38n20 Strong, Roy C., 90n3 Suetonius, 198 Swann, Joan, 275n7 T

Taborin, Yvette, 37n20 Tacitus, 312 Tague, Ingrid H., 252n3 Talavera, Philippe, 194n13 Tarde, Gabriel de, 224n6 Tarlo, Emma, 37n16 Tomas, Dana, 140n18 Trupp, G.A., 68n5 Tiberius, 166 Tremblay, Martine, 194n7 Trump, Donald, 85 Tuan, Yi-Fu, 253n15 Turgenev, Ivan, 7n6, 212 U

Underdown, David, 208n12

V

Valéry, Paul, 171 van der Veen, Marijke, 90n3 van Dyck, Anthony, 239n11 van Eyck, Jan, 229, 234 van Wees, Hans, 35n2 Vanderbilt family, 106n15 Vasiljevic, Vera, 70n22 Veblen, Torstein, ixn1, 2, 21, 34, 47, 105n14, 109n1, 119, 123n1, 138n2, 177n2, 182, 183, 206, 213, 269 Velázquez, Diego, 24 Veyne, Paul, 298 Victoria (Queen of England), 60, 225n18, 247, 307 Vigarello, Georges, 37n18, 124n13, 138n5, 139n14, 194n14 Vigée Le Brun, Élisabeth, 237 Vigny, Alfred de, 145 Villiers, George, 122 Vischer, Michael P., 291n10 Voltaire, 14n1 W

Waddy, Patricia, 56n19 Walker, Brett L., 253n10 Wallace-Hadrill, Andrew, 173n6 Walpole, Robert, 44 Warner, W. Lloyd, 8n7, 105n13 Warnke, Martin, 238n2 Washington, George, 143 Watteau, Antoine, 59 Weber, Caroline, 124n18 Weber, Max, 6, 138n2, 145, 199, 269 Weiner, Annette, 310n14

Name Index

Weisfeld, Glenn E., 123n4 Welles, Orson, 252n8 Wharton, Edith, 183, 208n13, 215 Whelan, Fiona, 153n5 Whyman, Susan E., 91n12 Wierzbicka, Anna, 123n3 Wiessner, Polly, 90n3 Wijsman, Hanno, 174n12 Wilkins, John, 91n8, 224n9 Williams, Susan, 15n10, 91n10 Wills, Tomas Ashby, 313n2 Wittkower, Margot, 238n3 Wittkower, Rudolf, 238n3 Worth, Charles Frederick, 231 Wouters, Cas, 154n7

Wyatt-Brown, Bertram, 155n22 X

Xenophon, 91n8 Y

Yang, Mayfair Mei-Hui, 309n5 You, Yao-Fen, 92n22 Z

Zeiner, Noelle K., 232 Zoete, S. de, 92n17 Zuiderhoek, Arjan, 309n7

343

Subject Index1

A

Adornment accessories belts, 20, 30, 33, 96, 119, 306 canes, fans, umbrellas, 13, 30, 33–35, 116, 251 gloves, 27, 33, 37n13, 46, 122, 127, 155n18 handbags, 32, 37n14, 136, 169 headdresses, 24, 27–30, 32, 33, 120, 129, 136, 148, 207, 252n6, 267, 272, 308 jewellery, 11, 12, 19, 22, 24, 30–32, 104, 119, 137, 182, 212, 234, 243, 248, 250, 299, 303, 308 shoes, 2, 20, 24, 25, 33, 34, 36n10, 38n22, 54, 119, 120, 122, 148, 251

1

ties, 33, 180, 212, 302 watches, 30, 35, 54, 169, 311 wigs, 29, 129, 136, 137, 194n11, 213 Aesthetical dimensions of social distinction, 4, 11, 27, 33, 40, 44, 48, 80, 81, 84, 86, 89, 128, 130, 138, 166, 170, 210, 227, 236, 237, 248, 313 Africa (Northern) Egypt (medieval/modern), 140n21, 225n17, 298 Morocco, 116 Africa (sub-Saharan) Benin/Dahomey, 42, 67, 169 Cameroon, 97 Congo, 97

Note: Page numbers followed by ‘n’ refer to notes.

© Te Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 J.-P. Daloz, Expressions of High Status, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-05401-3

345

346

Subject Index

Africa (sub-Saharan) (cont.) Ethiopia, 116, 274 Ghana, 83 Kenya, 47 Madagascar, 97, 104n3 Namibia, 188 Nigeria, 20, 47, 65, 66, 128, 165, 173n10, 180, 183, 189, 274, 274n1, 286, 287, 300, 311 Nubia, 225n17 Rhodesia, 271, 278, 310n10 South Africa, 41, 287 Zimbabwe, 91n12 America (Central–South) Andean capitals, 212 Brazil, 44, 62, 138 Colombia, 138, 252n8 Mexico, 40, 63, 129, 243, 286 Panama, 38n21, 194n15 Peru, 243 See also Aztecs; Caribbean islands; Incas; Mayas America (North) Canada, 194n7 United States, 8n7, 26, 28, 32, 41, 42, 45, 46, 49, 53, 55n14, 55–56n18, 62, 64, 69n10, 81, 85, 96, 104, 105n13, 115, 123n11, 133, 134, 143, 150, 157, 160, 165, 172, 184, 186, 188, 198, 199, 202, 205, 208n9, 208n10, 208n13, 212, 217, 219, 223, 249, 252n7, 261, 262, 267, 270, 271, 278, 286, 287 Animals and status afrmation appropriation of intimidating attributes, 243

breeding–selection, 49, 58, 245–247, 300 pets, 104, 106n18, 217, 223, 244, 248, 249, 251 showcasing, 250–251 Antiquity Assyrians, 116 Celts–Gallics, 30, 58, 74 Egypt (pharaonic), 40, 58, 61, 67, 96, 99, 106n18, 116, 122, 134, 136, 188, 236, 248 Etruscans, 103 Germans–Teutons, 30, 293, 312 Greece, 15n6, 15n7, 18, 20, 23, 68n4, 74, 90n6, 91n8, 94, 100, 101, 128, 134, 139n10, 166, 180, 188, 191, 216, 228, 235, 269, 292n21, 294, 297, 305 Mesopotamia, 40, 41, 58, 136 Rome, 15n6, 19, 31, 33, 40, 44, 47, 50, 58, 65, 68n4, 69n7, 80, 86, 90n4, 90n6, 91n13, 96, 103, 119, 122, 123n10, 127, 129, 130, 132–134, 136, 140n22, 149, 151, 159, 163, 166, 167, 169, 181, 189, 212, 217, 221, 228, 232, 233, 236, 238n1, 243, 244, 248, 250, 264, 266, 269, 271, 279, 283, 285, 293, 297, 310n8, 312 Arab world–Bedouins–Tuaregs, 15n6, 38n21, 42, 50, 64, 65, 269, 274 Aristocracy/aristocrats, 6, 19, 45, 48, 74, 76, 134, 145, 152, 158, 181, 199–201, 218, 235, 246, 269, 283, 284, 288, 291n8, 296, 308

Subject Index

courts/courtiers, 19, 21, 25, 29, 30, 45, 48, 51, 76, 80, 82, 86–88, 91n8, 115–117, 120–122, 124n16, 145, 147, 148, 151, 152, 161, 163, 164, 166, 175, 190, 192, 194n6, 198, 201, 217, 218, 222, 223n3, 229–232, 234, 239n11, 244, 248, 261, 262, 267, 268, 280–282, 284, 289, 292n19, 296, 303, 304 dynasties, 12, 25, 29, 39, 41, 49, 95, 96, 99–101, 104, 121, 136, 158, 181, 185, 188, 193n2, 216, 229, 230 heraldry, 170, 181, 244 Art fattering representations of elites, 232–238 literature, 5, 8n7, 34, 68n4, 87, 114, 155n21, 164, 183, 190, 194n10, 195n21, 208n6, 212, 228, 232–233, 262, 275n5 music, 51, 69n10, 109n1, 173n2, 186, 199, 207, 214, 231, 238, 273, 308 ofcial artists– academies, 227–238 painting, 34, 48, 59, 127, 128, 132, 137, 171, 181, 185, 199, 206, 212, 228, 229, 231, 233–238, 239n9, 239n11, 239n12, 239n14, 245, 248, 266, 299, 312, 313 sculpture–statues, 22, 48, 58, 100, 228, 234, 235, 245, 261, 268, 298

347

theatre, 13, 116, 121, 131, 135, 147, 199, 230, 231, 275n6 Artifcialness/naturalness, 108, 118, 119, 127, 131, 134, 149, 235, 245, 248, 263, 289, 309n1 Asia (Far East) China, 17, 25, 35, 38n22, 49, 53, 58, 59, 65, 67, 68n4, 75, 76, 79, 80, 82, 84, 86, 95–98, 116, 123n9, 124n12, 127, 136, 137, 139, 148, 165, 171, 180, 192, 222, 229, 231, 236, 247, 248, 269, 281, 283, 285, 289, 295, 300, 302, 306, 308 Hong Kong, 45, 63, 311 Japan, 11, 18, 20, 23, 25, 41, 47, 48, 53, 67, 74–76, 84, 96, 116, 122, 127, 130, 138n1, 155n19, 159, 162, 168, 171, 186, 245, 247, 252n5, 267, 268, 274, 275n8, 275n9, 294, 299, 300, 302, 304, 305, 307, 308, 310n16, 312 Korea, 67, 75 Taiwan, 186 Asia (Middle East) Byzantium, 233, 268 Dubai/Gulf countries/United Arab Emirates, 10, 63, 65, 222 Ottoman empire, 23, 48, 51, 87, 134, 222, 295, 299, 306 Palestine, 15n6 Persia, 15n6, 86, 91n8, 282

348

Subject Index

Asia (South) Afghanistan, 230 India, 15n6, 21, 23, 27, 28, 31, 43, 53, 58, 66, 67, 69n10, 87, 116, 129, 137, 149, 183, 212, 216, 267, 270, 271, 292n16, 293, 301, 306, 307 Tibet, 116 Asia (South-East) Burma, 42 Cambodia, 42 Indonesia/Bali/Borneo/Java, 39, 138n1, 268 Philippines, 123n11 Siam, 198, 294 Singapore, 67 Asymmetrical relations, 117, 162, 222, 260, 272, 285, 297, 305 Aztecs, 23, 31, 116, 134, 136, 243, 282, 301

postures (hierarchy of ), 270–271 touch, 271–273 upper limbs, 261–262 Bourgeoisie, 19, 26, 42, 46, 47, 50, 52, 60, 75, 83, 85, 88, 92n19, 95, 116, 145, 151, 164, 170, 185, 186, 199, 201, 231, 237, 239n11 ‘bobos,’ 46 Burials epigraphy, 101 funerals, 93–98 funerary monuments, 98–104 pet cemeteries, 104 sacrifces, 103 Business/business(wo)men, 52, 64, 70n15, 108, 113, 138, 140n22, 143, 194n12, 199, 204, 232, 237, 239n14, 286, 302, 308

B

C

Balls/parties/receptions, 32, 49, 116, 117, 135, 152, 203, 232, 262, 286, 298, 303 dancing, 108, 117, 118, 120, 155n18, 235, 243, 276n15, 308 Bodily attitudes/gestures chest, 261, 262 contradictory codes, 266–274 face, 263, 268, 274, 275n6 gait, 38n23, 269 gaze, 2, 35, 263, 264, 268, 273–274 immobility, 268 lower limbs, 262–263

Canopies/parasols, 34, 35, 50, 52, 77, 116, 117, 129, 130, 283, 291n13 Caribbean islands Barbados, 66 Bermuda, 66 Cuba, 123n11 Puerto Rico, 123n11 St Barthelemy, 202 Trinidad, 66 Clothes and the body, 24–25, 118–120, 127 colour, 18, 19, 27, 31, 132, 184 quantitative dimensions, 20–21

Subject Index

shape, 20 texture, 18–19 trains, 2, 6, 121, 284 underwear, 2, 20, 21, 25, 118 wedding dress, 10, 96 Clubs, 122, 147, 187, 189, 197, 200, 202–206, 208n9, 222, 224n13, 243, 298 Collections/collectors, 43, 79, 92n16, 169, 170, 172, 227, 229, 236, 244, 251, 299, 312 Colonial situations, 23, 28, 53, 67, 129, 147, 148, 165, 188, 202, 212, 221, 253n12, 271, 272, 307 Comfort, 6, 20, 21, 33, 34, 42, 50, 59, 63, 64, 67, 99, 103, 116, 117, 120, 123n6, 202, 214, 220, 282, 306 Consumption, 5, 26, 73, 75, 88, 133, 208n9, 242, 249 Containers (beautiful), 12, 31, 32, 78, 87–89, 101, 121, 132, 133, 135, 150 Culture (as a result of cultivation) conversation, 163, 164, 169 knowledge (display of ), 169 libraries, 169–172, 173n2, 174n12 preceptors, 184 schooling, 165, 168, 169 (see also Socialisation) Cultures (as universes of meaning), 1–7, 10, 13, 14, 22–24, 27, 28, 30, 31, 41, 42, 44, 45, 48, 67, 73, 75, 81, 95, 102, 104, 132, 140, 142, 150, 153, 158, 162, 180, 195n22, 214, 228,

349

233, 236, 238, 243, 249, 252n3, 257, 259, 260, 262, 265, 267, 268, 272, 278, 282–290, 295, 301, 302, 306, 311, 312 cultural cleavages regarding social distinction–divergent codes, 1, 5n7, 10, 14, 17, 18, 23–28, 31, 32, 34, 37n19, 39, 40, 48, 49, 51, 53, 54n3, 55n14, 58, 63, 66, 74–76, 80, 81, 83, 84, 86, 91n9, 95, 96, 98, 99, 101, 108, 112, 116, 117, 119, 125, 127, 130, 131, 136, 148, 149, 152, 154n10, 155n17, 158, 159, 167, 188, 189, 192, 239n3, 242, 246–248, 251, 252n3, 260, 261, 265–274, 277, 279, 287, 288, 294, 296, 301, 304, 307 individualist/holistic environments, 52, 159, 176, 179, 214 religious dimensions, 19, 46, 51, 58, 97–100, 104, 116, 127, 136, 150, 158, 165, 170, 185, 218, 221, 229, 230, 234, 236, 239n10, 243, 260, 269, 273, 279, 305 D

Decoration/decorators, 50, 63, 76, 79, 84, 87, 107, 130, 159, 170, 230, 250, 307 Diplomatic representation, 57, 148, 182, 194n11, 279, 289, 290n7, 299, 303, 304

350

Subject Index

Disciplinary contributions to the study of social distinction anthropology/ethnology, 3, 6, 9–11, 22, 38n20, 38n23, 39, 40, 83, 87, 89n2, 90n6, 93–95, 105n14, 127, 128, 131, 138n1, 145, 159, 166, 179–181, 218, 242, 243, 266, 268, 271, 274, 278, 279, 281, 288, 293, 298, 301, 305, 307, 308, 309n3, 310n14 archaeology, 3, 7n3, 10, 40, 57, 87, 93, 101, 102, 127, 132 art history, 4, 167 ethology, 5, 112, 261, 265, 278 geography, 5, 54n3 history, viii, 6, 9, 10, 20, 26, 30, 41, 87, 90n2, 93, 94, 104n2, 131, 145, 151, 161, 163, 164, 180, 210, 243, 248, 267, 268, 279, 281, 291n10, 307 literary studies, 5, 233, 275n5 political science, 5, 301 psycho-sociology/sociopsychology, 5, 114, 151, 162, 243, 255, 264, 266, 270, 292n20, 312, 313n2 socio-economics/marketing literature, 5, 27, 133, 301 sociology, 3–5, 7n5, 8n7, 10, 28, 50, 93, 103, 114, 125, 143, 151, 159, 161, 168, 170, 179, 191, 197, 203, 205, 213, 242, 246, 261, 263, 264, 266, 270, 288, 301

E

Emulation/imitation, 6, 26, 45, 99, 168, 224n6, 251, 309n1, 313n2 Euegertism/philanthropic activities, 74, 293, 296–298 Europe (Eastern) Poland, 25, 273 Romania, 287 Russia, 52, 58, 63, 64, 66, 78, 90n5, 191, 193, 212, 214, 217, 218, 279, 287, 304 Europe (Nordic countries), 75, 150, 274, 274n1, 293 Denmark, 290n6 Finland, 164, 290n6 Norway, 50, 159, 182, 279, 287, 290n6 Sweden, 148, 290n6 Europe (Western) Austria/Hungary, 198, 217, 279 England/Great Britain/United Kingdom, 13, 15n3, 23, 29, 31–33, 35, 42, 44, 48, 49, 53, 59–61, 66, 75, 86, 87, 96, 107, 115, 118, 122, 123n3, 123n6, 126, 127, 129, 130, 134, 137, 145, 148, 150, 152, 154n8, 160, 163–165, 170, 173n2, 184–186, 195n17, 199, 201, 202, 206, 207, 215, 221, 222, 225n17, 233, 237, 239n11, 239n12, 243, 246–248, 252n6, 253n12, 267, 272, 273, 286–288, 290n6, 296, 299, 306, 307, 312

Subject Index

France, ixn1, 25, 28, 29, 41, 46, 48, 49, 53, 61, 64, 75, 76, 78, 80, 83, 84, 88, 90n4, 95, 96, 100, 116, 122, 123n11, 124n16, 126, 133, 134, 137, 139n11, 145, 148, 157–159, 161–163, 165, 169, 173n10, 182, 185, 186, 191, 192, 194n11, 198, 199, 201, 202, 215, 218, 222, 224n5, 225n17, 232, 234, 237, 239n9, 243, 265, 273, 279, 281–286, 288, 289, 290n3, 292n16, 294, 298, 306, 309n4 Germany, 26, 42, 43, 47, 51, 61, 66, 128, 170, 186, 192, 194n11, 199, 225n17 Greece (modern), 274 Holland/Netherlands, 2, 41, 85, 86, 212, 231, 245, 312 Ireland, 150, 173n9 Italy, 15n7, 25, 45, 47, 78, 86, 89, 91n11, 120, 140n21, 150, 230, 239n11, 274, 290, 303, 304, 312 Monaco, 45, 202 Portugal, 118, 189 Spain, 15n6, 42, 53, 95, 118, 195n16, 223n3, 239n12, 243, 245, 268, 292n16, 301, 309n4 Switzerland, 65, 148, 288 Exclusiveness, 52, 60, 67, 75, 88, 96, 108, 132, 147, 167, 183, 199, 205, 224n13, 297, 298

351

Exoticism, 11, 34, 40, 49, 59, 79–81, 86, 102, 128, 217, 244, 245 F

Fashion/distinction through antiquity/ novelty, 2, 6, 10, 13, 17, 20, 25–31, 40, 53, 60, 61, 64, 69n10, 69n14, 78, 118, 119, 127, 131, 135, 137, 161, 185, 206, 213, 215, 217, 225n17, 230, 234, 239n11, 248 Feminist perspectives, 119, 153, 182, 195n22, 223n1, 262 Fiction (as a source), 5, 8n7, 34, 36n6, 68n4, 87, 107, 126, 139n11, 152, 164, 183, 188, 190, 194n10, 195n21, 208n6, 208n13, 212, 262, 275n5 Food/drinks banquets, 74–76, 80, 86, 217, 218, 281, 285, 290, 297, 308 gastronomy, 78, 81–84 place settings, 73, 84–89 quantitative expressions, 13, 14, 80 restaurants, 46, 79, 82–84, 133, 187, 189, 220, 261, 302 service, 77–79, 84, 87 staging, 73, 76–79, 86, 284–285 toast, 285 wine, 74, 76, 82, 83, 89, 120, 121, 135, 149, 169, 223, 285, 302 Functionalist approaches, 8n7, 105n13, 138n2

352

Subject Index

G

Gift exchange bottom-up/top-down/intraelite, 295–300 hospitality, 14, 291n8, 304–306 introductory gifts, 301 nature/value, 295, 301–308 occasions, 183, 294, 301, 304–305 rejection, 298 Glamorous (fe)male company courtesans, 127, 190–192, 195n22 gallantry, 153, 193 harems, 189, 192, 222, 308 ornamental reifcation of women, 119, 182, 191, 194n6 sexuality, 73, 187–193, 242 Greetings, 2, 150, 168, 207, 230, 260, 267, 274n1, 280, 285

Intra-elite confrontations, 45, 113, 190, 212, 238, 255, 295, 298–300 J

Jet set, 62, 202, 245 L

Hunting/shooting, 43, 58, 74, 79, 82, 207, 241, 253n19, 272, 308

Leisure, 34, 51, 60, 109n1, 119, 127, 129, 200, 207, 269 Linguistic competence accent, 160, 224n5 foreign language skills, 109n1, 164 mastering of codes, 157–162, 165 writing, 165–166 Luxury, 2, 9, 10, 12, 14n1, 18, 25, 30, 31, 34, 46, 52, 54, 54n2, 60, 63, 69n13, 70n19, 79, 82, 86, 88, 90n3, 91n8, 97, 103, 107, 114, 117, 132, 134, 140n18, 169, 171, 174n12, 185, 190, 214, 219, 221, 233, 234, 249, 250, 294, 311

I

M

H

Incas, 19, 23, 31, 41, 96 Interactionist approaches, 2, 5, 7, 23, 113, 114, 144, 147, 161–163, 215, 219, 221, 236, 255–257, 259, 260, 264, 265, 270, 280, 285, 286, 295, 297 Internationalisation, 200, 205

Manners (distinguished) ambiguities, 109, 142–148 manuals focusing on elitist codes, 141, 151, 153n1 manuals focusing on morality, 141, 149, 151, 152, 154n16 self-control, 141, 142, 149, 154n7

Subject Index

Marxism (neo-), 10, 105n9, 168, 223n1, 299 Mayas, 116, 138n4, 233 Methodology, 3, 94, 96, 311–313 ‘hard’/social sciences, 6 identifcation of divergent scenarios, vii, viii, 1, 6, 10, 14, 22, 27, 31, 50, 75, 95, 102, 103, 113, 115, 125, 136, 142, 145, 146, 161, 179, 182, 183, 188, 190, 198, 209, 211, 216, 231, 260, 264, 266–274, 278, 282, 283, 293, 299, 302, 307, 309n3, 311 interpretation/interpretativist approaches, 6 Middle Ages, 5, 14n1, 15n9, 18–21, 25, 28, 33, 50, 58, 68n4, 74, 80, 82, 84–87, 96, 97, 99, 101, 104, 122, 123n8, 127, 131, 137, 145, 151, 169, 180, 184, 195n16, 195n21, 212, 216, 218, 229, 232, 248, 283, 292n16, 298 Monopoly, 10, 19, 30, 80, 82, 116, 126, 134, 243, 289, 308 O

Oceania Australia/Aborigines, 293 New Guinea, 38n20, 74, 293 New Zealand/Maoris, 74, 294, 309n3 Polynesia, 7n4, 11, 23, 80, 122, 124n18, 128, 138, 138n5, 162, 180, 188, 267, 273, 276n16, 279, 293, 308, 309n3 Opera, 13, 33, 122, 152, 201

353

P

Philosophical approaches, 9, 49, 90n6, 158, 166 See also Universalist views, normative standpoints Physical appearance beauty, 36n7, 48, 116, 121, 125–133, 177, 192, 222, 234, 244, 247, 308, 313 bodily markings, 22, 127 cleanliness/hygiene, 125, 130–137, 150, 217 corpulence/slenderness, 128–129 grooming, 96, 109n1, 117, 130–138, 220 hairstyle, 32, 33, 66, 121, 122, 124n18, 127, 130, 132–134, 136–137, 140n21, 187, 215 perfume, 10, 96, 132, 134–136, 300 plastic surgery, 137–138 skin colour, 129–132, 247 Postmodern societies, 27, 46, 134, 161 Postmodernist approaches, 37n15, 134 Potlatch, 79, 105n14, 252n7, 293 Power, 2, 32, 39, 40, 43, 44, 47, 48, 94, 102, 108, 113, 119, 144, 157, 163, 165, 166, 175, 186, 187, 193, 200, 216, 221, 222, 224n15, 227, 230, 239n10, 245, 252n4, 256, 264, 266, 272, 277, 280, 283, 286, 295, 299, 300, 305 Precedence address (deferential forms of ), 2, 162, 222, 285–286 dynamic confgurations, 277–281 processions, 97, 282–284, 303

354

Subject Index

Precedence (cont.) static confgurations, 281–282 symbolic order (pre-established/ uncertain), 288–290 time dimensions, 286–288 See also Spatial dimensions Prehistory, 3, 10, 11, 30, 33, 37n20, 39, 58, 74, 99, 106n18 Prestige goods borrowing/rental of, 10, 15n4, 30, 220 brands (famous), 61, 65, 66, 134, 169, 185 (see also Consumption) properties contributing to social distinction, 10–14, 63–64, 99 symbolic/utilitarian dimensions, 7n3, 62–66, 69n12, 166 See also Adornment accessories; Burials; Clothes; Food/drinks, wine; Residence; Vehicles Q

Qualitative/quantitative distinction, 13–14, 20–21, 25, 31, 66, 80–84, 88, 96–99, 183, 204, 214, 251, 302, 309n3 R

Race/ethnicity, 17, 27, 97, 104n3, 129–130, 143, 154n10, 160, 192, 205, 212, 217–218, 221, 270, 278, 287, 298 Relatives (and vicarious display) ancestors, 45, 91n12, 94, 99, 100, 103, 180, 181, 184, 237, 305

children, 27, 60, 62, 75, 104, 113, 115, 126, 128, 152, 154n10, 164, 168, 173n2, 177, 179, 181–187, 192, 194n10, 194n12, 205, 217, 218, 221, 223, 234, 246, 271, 273, 278, 293, 299, 312 heirs, 41, 96, 102, 165, 167, 181, 185 marriage/matrimonial strategies, 29, 32, 122, 181–183, 185, 187, 191, 195n16, 289, 294, 304 spouses, 18, 27, 32, 53, 67, 96, 103, 108, 128, 129, 133, 152, 154n10, 177, 179, 181–183, 187, 189–192, 202, 210, 219, 236, 237, 294, 304 Renaissance period, 14n1, 15n7, 26, 31, 41, 44, 45, 48, 69n7, 74, 77, 82, 84–86, 96, 120, 131, 148, 194n6, 229, 233, 269, 283, 291n8, 299, 305 Residence architecture, 39, 41, 45, 51, 52, 69n11, 99, 198, 230, 297 furniture, 31, 50, 53–54, 77, 85, 116, 120, 133, 206, 235, 251, 267, 282 gardens/parks, 13, 42, 44, 47–49, 147, 210, 220, 239n8, 249, 251, 280 interiors, 40, 50–54, 69n10, 206, 250 lighting, 52–53, 79, 85, 218 residential areas, 39, 45, 46, 52, 99, 202, 250 size of buildings, 40–43, 46

Subject Index

tents, 14, 54n2 view, 13, 41, 44, 49 Rituals, 9, 23, 74, 86, 93, 95, 121, 133, 143, 201, 203, 206, 215, 218, 267, 273, 285, 302 Romantic era, 19, 33, 37n17, 128, 195n21, 207 S

Self-confdence, assertiveness and background, 111–115 (see also Socialisation) ease–sprezzatura, 29, 33, 107, 111, 113–122, 123n10, 230, 245 and elitist constraints, 115–122 Servants and assistance to overcome elitist constraints, 121–122, 210 attire of, 2, 59, 212–213 contemporary highly-skilled staf, 220, 223 employees in luxury hotels, 219–221 hierarchical relationships between, 210, 215–216, 220 names of, 221–222 nannies–nurses, 128, 164, 212, 215, 221, 223, 225n17 noble service, 6, 218–219 pride of servants, 209, 216, 222 slaves, 18, 67, 94, 98, 117, 122, 133, 136, 167, 188, 212, 214, 216, 217, 219, 221, 222, 229, 244, 269, 271

355

Socialisation, 108, 114, 144, 168, 186, 204, 205 Socio-political dimensions feudal systems, 26, 43, 74, 92n16, 147, 175, 199, 219, 275n9, 300 patronage–clientelism, 47, 74, 98, 147, 175, 199, 212, 214, 228–229, 273, 296, 297, 300 republican ideals, 134, 150 revolutions, 29, 52, 134, 143, 222 Spatial dimensions closeness/distance, 42, 45, 47, 51, 99, 176, 229, 271, 274, 281, 283, 284, 287, 306, 312 depth – front/back, 13, 62, 235, 276n12, 277–278, 281, 291n13 horizontality, 51, 85 isolation/entourage, 6, 42, 44, 79, 99, 100, 176, 235, 265 laterality – right/left, 24, 55, 265, 277, 279, 281, 284, 289–290 threshold, 51, 278, 280 verticality – elevation, 6, 41–44, 46, 47, 49, 51, 53–54, 62, 66, 120, 260, 281 See also Precedence; Teatricality Sport, 15n6, 109n1, 123n2, 129, 187, 199, 202, 205–207, 208n9, 245, 313n1 Style, 4, 25–29, 37n17, 49, 51, 53, 54n3, 63, 78, 84, 132, 150, 166, 204, 205, 231, 233, 237, 260, 266 Sumptuary laws, 19, 30, 37n19, 68n4, 303

356

Subject Index

T

Taste, 12, 49, 50, 53, 64, 78, 82, 91n9, 134, 164, 169, 174n11, 187, 217, 237, 239n11, 248, 307, 312 Teatricality, 22, 76, 80, 112, 116, 255, 270, 273, 280, 285, 290n3, 291n14, 305 Travel, 11, 59, 62, 67, 69n7, 148, 169, 287, 312 Trickle-down processes, 26, 174n15 Trickle-up processes, 27 U

Understatement, ixn2 Universalist views critique of grand theory dogmatism, vii, ixn1, 1, 6, 19, 27, 47, 58, 89n2, 93, 99, 112, 127, 134, 146, 157, 188, 257, 259–260, 263, 279, 289, 293, 299 normative standpoints, 1, 6, 114, 119, 157, 158, 169, 182, 295, 310n8 Upstarts, 49, 107, 135, 150, 152, 176, 237, 298 V

Vehicles airships, 61 bicycles, 60, 120, 124n12 boats, 61, 64, 65, 70n19, 206, 214, 220, 279

carriages, 42, 58–59, 63, 65–67, 68n1, 69n6, 97, 121, 175, 211, 235, 278–280, 290n7 cars, 7n6, 13, 43, 46, 47, 59–68, 69n11, 70n18, 87, 120, 169, 183, 202, 222–223, 279, 311 carts, 58, 103 hammocks/palanquins/ rickshaws, 59, 67 helicopters, 62, 65 planes, 57, 62, 64, 65, 71n19, 90n5, 202, 220 registration plates, 65, 67 trains, 59–60, 90n5 Visibility/concealment, 6, 12–13, 24, 25, 32–34, 40, 49, 59, 69n11, 80, 84, 85, 97–100, 118–121, 127, 132, 140n21, 176, 189, 206, 210–213, 233, 238, 249, 250, 260–263, 274, 284, 303, 308 Vulgarity, 19, 61, 131, 135, 137, 146, 152, 161, 172, 246, 303 W

Waste (conspicuous), 41, 47, 102, 172 Women, 2, 6, 18, 20, 21, 23–28, 30, 32, 35, 36n11, 38n21, 58, 60, 61, 68n4, 69n9, 71n24, 76, 95, 101, 108, 116, 118–121, 123n11, 124n12, 124n19, 128, 129, 132, 134, 140n21, 141, 144, 148–150, 152, 153,

Subject Index

160, 170, 175, 176, 182, 183, 187, 189–193, 194n6, 195, 197, 200, 201, 204, 205, 207, 210–212, 215, 217–219, 231, 235, 237, 238, 249, 252n6,

357

256, 261–264, 268–272, 274, 275n3, 278, 282, 284, 285, 289, 299, 306 See also Feminist perspectives; Glamorous (fe)male company