THERE WAS an interesting interview in the Telegraph some time ago with the son of Daphne du Maurier, in relation to the screening of Rebecca on ITV last night and tonight.
Du Maurier's only son, Kits Browning, professed himself happy enough with the television version of his mother's classic tale, but had some criticisms on sartorial grounds, particularly in the matter of allowing actor Charles Dance (who plays Daphne's father) to dress in a black and blue Old Etonian necktie in the court scenes. Worse, it seems the producers made Dance wear the tie with a white shirt and a tweed jacket, an appalling gaffe.
"In fact", says Kits, "I don't think my mother would have worried about it, but my father certainly would. He reckoned you might just about get away with an OE tie in morning dress at weddings and funerals in London. If you were going to the country, you had to change your tie at the Chiswick roundabout."
It is sad that standards have slipped across the water, but here in Ireland, thank God, dress proprieties are still observed rigorously. Of course the new motorways have brought their own problems - particularly the M50, because of the long delays in getting off it there have been some embarrassing sightings of people sitting for two hours in their cars while quite inappropriately attired.
In the old days things were easier, and clearer, though perhaps a little more formal. I remember the nervousness induced when the Naas dual carriage way was finished. We knew that old dress codes were under serious threat, but hardly foresaw this new world of flyovers and bypasses.
Of course everything changed west of the Shannon. I remember on one occasion, going to a funeral in Galway, when, about to cross the great river, we stopped in Athlone to make the necessary sartorial changes. However, the presence in our little group of a certain party resulted in too much time being spent in the Prince of Wales Hotel, or more accurately - in its pleasant bar. The result was social obloquy at the funeral. Instead of brown doeskin gloves, the first cousin of the deceased (the certain party already referred to) was seen to be wearing black fingerless woollen affairs.
Oh all right. Not very funny.
I see where an English vicar has been given a grant to take a three month sabbatical to study jokes and humour in the Bible. The Rev - Peter Hancock (no relation to Tony) already has a small store of quips which American state is mentioned in the Bible? Arkansas: "And Noah looked from the ark and saw..." What ice cream firm features in the Old Testament? Walls of Jericho. When is tennis first mentioned in the Bible? When Joseph served in Pharaoh's court. I am not sure if the Reverend has the story that by coming forth instead of third, Moses just missed the bronze medal, but I suspect he has.
We must hope for better than this. There is certainly humour in the Bible but it is well known that the Holy Book is a printing and publishing nightmare, with age old transposition - of characters, locales and events - on a massive scale. Rearranging it properly, an enormous task, is barely under way, but initial efforts are already showing up much of God's Pooterish sense of humour.
The well known Biblical scholar, JJ Crutson Meyer, has done much of the ground work. According to his researches, the story of Lazarus, for example, actually began at a New Year's Eve party give by a bond trader in Cana - it was not a wedding feast, as commonly thought. Also among the guests, it appears, was the trader's socially active younger son, known to one and all around town as "The Prodigal" for fairly obvious reasons. The father was not at all bothered by his son's excesses but because of some sort of bovine health scare at the time, drew the line at killing fatted calves.
This trader had heard some wild story doing the rounds about an enormous crowd being fed with five loaves and two fishes, but his caterers were not amused: a banquet was a banquet, they told him firmly, and after all it was New Year's Eve.
Anyway, Lazarus, a fairly simple soul, was totally confused not only by his host's decision to keep the best wine, Til Last (a full bodied Syrian red), when most of his guests rarely drank anything else - but also by the richness of the food.
In short, Lazarus over indulged. So the observation by his VIP visitor - "this man is not dead but sleepeth" - was actually made on New Year's Day, circa 31 A.D., when poor old Laz was, like so any of us last Wednesday, merely suffering the after effects of the previous night's party.
