One good reason to marry a prince

Now that Kate has married her prince, we can all sit back and reclaim our lives.

At least I hope so, because if I hear the word ‘fairytale’ once more, uttered in gushing American twang by CNN newscasters, I swear I’ll catch a plane, head to their studios and mess up those corporate, hair-sprayed bobs of theirs.

Apart from that outburst, thisis what I’ve been thinking the whole of the past week: would I want to marry a prince, really? Well, the obvious answer, after watching that whole pomp and hullabaloo, was ‘goodness no’.

If I were Kate I would have given William a choice: either we elope or, er, we elope. Can you imagine signing yourself up to a lifetime of not being able to nip down the road for bread, in pyjama bottoms? Or not affording a single bad hair day because your pictures will be splattered across the front pages?

No, princesshood is absolutely not for me.

Or so I thought until I had a change of heart. I was reading my daughter a bed time story, a modern take of The Princess and the Pea (by the brilliant Lauren Child – buy it!). And the story, which did away with the usual soppy hogwash, focused on the fact that a true prince is not one of blue blood but one with impeccably good manners.

“But such princes do not grow on trees,” sighed the Queen. And Ifollowed suit.

It makes so much sense that every girl’s ‘princey’ dreams fall into place. Subconsciously, it’s all about manners. Really and truly we don’t dream of a prince showering us with diamonds and crowning tiaras on our heads; we dream of a prince who is attentive and courteous.

“In courtesy I’d have her chiefly learned,” wrote the Irish poet William Butler Yeats for his newborn daughter; “Hearts are not had as a gift, but hearts are earned.”

Alas! O tempora! O mores! Where have our manners gone? Why the scowls and the frowns?

Why is it that if I go in a clothes shop and wish the sales person a good morning, my “bonġu” is greeted with a guttural grunt? What’s so awful about being wished a pleasant day? Manners have given way to spitting, swearing, queue-cutting and pushing in.

Saying please or thank you seems to be a rarity, taken over by belching in public and speaking loudly on a mobile phone. Why is it that people no longer give their seat up for an elderly person? And does it take a prince to hold the door for the person behind him?

I can’t be the only one bothered by all this – there’s even a ‘Campaign for Good Manners and Old Fashioned Courtesy’ on Facebook.

Courtesy – the art of making other people feel comfortable and valued, the art of imagining what it is to be another person – seems to have perished.

If a prince is what it takes to believe that there is still hope, then bring him on, because, frankly, I’d rather scratch my nails against the wall than endure another episode of bad manners.

Erasmus – the real one, not the ‘hot issue’ EU programme – has the answer. The great humanist scholar published a little book on manners way back in 1530. His basic tenet was that good manners will spring from “the ability to ignore the faults of others and avoid falling short yourself”.

The book deals with aspects of social or physical presentation: the eyes, posture, table manners, and so on. It was an instant success and was translated from the original Latin into all the tongues of Europe.

Perhaps our bevy of esteemed translators in Brussels could find a spot of time to translate this work into Maltese.

Then perhaps we’d come to terms with the fact that it’s perfectly alright to greet people chirpily in the morning, to hold the door open for your colleague, to speak discreetly on your mobile phone if you’re in a public place, and overall to be grateful for people who keep you company.

So there, this is one good reason to marry a prince – I’d willingly sacrifice my pyjama bottoms and my bad hair days, if it means that I’d be in the company of courtesy itself.

Until a prince comes along, could I end by saying how terribly grateful I am that you’ve called in at this page and read my little diatribe against bad manners?

I’ve taken up far too much of your time already, but if you feel moved to write in disagreement, please feel free to do so – especially if you are Prince Harry or even some other prince from a Far Away Land.

Anyway, have a good day,and we really must have lunch sometime.