The Duchess Who Wouldn't Sit Down: An Informal History of Hospitality

A delicious book in the style of Russell Lynes' Tastemakers. Witty enough to please the layperson; well-researched enough to please the historian. The personal is the historical!

From the ulterior designs behind his own modern poker refreshments to Nero's dubious habit of poisoning dinner guests, Browner's succinct and lively history of Western hospitality delights as it informs. Novelist Browner ("Conglomeros," "Turnaway") loves to entertain and suffers from the insecurities and appetite for praise of hosts everywhere. But few hosts have the wit and knowledge to explore the subject analytically - as universal power play, manipulation, social arbiter, and occasion of fear. Browner proceeds back in time through Hitler, the Renaissance courts of Europe, the Dark Ages, the Romans and Petronius' "Satyricon," and the Greeks' kindness to strangers, and ends with a poignant, personal meditation on his family's Thanksgiving. Each chapter is a small feast of historical detail, anecdotally presented and peppery with humor, opinion and personal identification. Against the forbidding, sumptuous settings of despots and kings, we imbibe personal foibles, like Hitler's dyspeptic asceticism ("His tastes in food hovered somewhere between the mundane and the revolting"), and Louis XIV's adroit humiliations (the duchess who preferred to stand than accept a stool). He reveals the personalities behind the successes of Gertrude Stein and Audubon ("confidence and hubris") and their failed counterparts. His chapter on the Dark Ages - its incivility attributable completely to the Germans' uncouth disregard for any but drunken hospitality - is a savage delight. Two portraits of men behind the thrones - Olivier de la Marche who proudly arranged parties for the ambitious Duke of Burgundy, and Petronius, who orchestrated Nero's excesses, while secretly penning the "Satyricon" poking fun at it all - take us behind the scenes to muse on the motivations of those who stand and watch. And then there are the Greeks, whose generosity to strangers was compelled by fear of divine retribution. Browner's personal engagement and breadth of knowledge combines fortuitously with his natural storytelling ability and effortless prose style, like the consummate host who makes it all look easy. For those who want more, he appends a chapter-by-chapter bibliography. A well-nigh perfect blend of erudition and entertainment.

If asked to define the essential duty of a host, most of us probably would agree with the ancient Akkadians: "Give food to eat, beer to drink, grant what is requested, provide for and treat with honor." Well, the author shows that it's much more complex than that. Who's in charge? The guest or the host? (Well, who decides the dinner menu, who sits where, etc?) Do you invite only friends to a party? Or do you go with the original Greek meeting of "hospitality" and welcome strangers to your home? Browner also makes a convincingly case that for a ruler, like Hitler or Louis XIV, hospitality is a manipulative tool of state policy. He claims not to be an historian, but his grasp of the past is quite solid, and his witty, felicitous style makes for a pleasureable and entertaining read. The chapter comparing Lady Ottoline Morell and Gertrude Stein -- the former a nearly complete failure as a hostess, the latter a considerable success -- is especially good, as is his discussion of what he describes as the historical antithesis of hospitality: the German takeover of the Roman Empire.

Have you ever thought about what a two-way street hospitality is? How the host gets a benefit, too? Has it occurred to you how hospitality marks civilization's progress, how impossible travel would have been without it, in the days when there were no motels or inns? Probably not, but Jesse Browner has pondered these things, and he has written a thoughtful, eclectic recap.The title refers not to a doting hostess, but rather to the ludicrous protocol in the French court at the time of Louis XIV. Browner's historical sorties can grow ever so slightly tedious, but they all have their lessons. Long before "Lives of the Rich and Famous," Louis created a cult of celebrity that makes our current breed of gossip column inhabitants look positively reclusive by comparison. His political enemies were completely distracted by the complicated and petty games they had to play to gain favor in the court. Louis paid the price of spending every moment on display.Hitler, Gertrude Stein, Caligula-they're all here, and as you learn how each treated his or her dinner companions, you gain a newfound sense of what hospitality is. Hitler was gracious and boring. (An edgier title for the book might have been The Vegetarian and Animal Rights Pioneer Who Was a Genocidal Maniac.) Stein's inflated ego led to a very proactive style, which succeeded very well in her circle of artists and writers. The Roman emperors who followed Julius Caesar were jaw-droppingly brutal and decadent. Typically Browner reports his often bizarre stories in a lively style, and then ends his chapters with perceptive insights. One of his comments in introducing his bibliography is very telling: "I have tried, wherever possible, to stick to primary source material, which I have read with the eye of a novelist, seeking out character and story." Browner's is a very personal and candid approach, which may be too impressionistic for some. But the topic of hospitality touches us all, and this book gave me a much more careful point of view on the matter.

From the ulterior designs behind his own modern poker refreshments to Nero's dubious habit of poisoning dinner guests, Browner's succinct and lively history of Western hospitality delights as it informs.Novelist Browner ("Conglomeros," "Turnaway") loves to entertain and suffers from the insecurities and appetite for praise of hosts everywhere. But few hosts have the wit and knowledge to explore the subject analytically - as universal power play, manipulation, social arbiter, and occasion of fear.Browner proceeds back in time through Hitler, the Renaissance courts of Europe, the Dark Ages, the Romans and Petronius' "Satyricon," and the Greeks' kindness to strangers, and ends with a poignant, personal meditation on his family's Thanksgiving.Each chapter is a small feast of historical detail, anecdotally presented and peppery with humor, opinion and personal identification. Against the forbidding, sumptuous settings of despots and kings, we imbibe personal foibles, like Hitler's dyspeptic asceticism ("His tastes in food hovered somewhere between the mundane and the revolting"), and Louis XIV's adroit humiliations (the duchess who preferred to stand than accept a stool).He reveals the personalities behind the successes of Gertrude Stein and Audubon ("confidence and hubris") and their failed counterparts. His chapter on the Dark Ages - its incivility attributable completely to the Germans' uncouth disregard for any but drunken hospitality - is a savage delight.Two portraits of men behind the thrones - Olivier de la Marche who proudly arranged parties for the ambitious Duke of Burgundy, and Petronius, who orchestrated Nero's excesses, while secretly penning the "Satyricon" poking fun at it all - take us behind the scenes to muse on the motivations of those who stand and watch. And then there are the Greeks, whose generosity to strangers was compelled by fear of divine retribution.Browner's personal engagement and breadth of knowledge combines fortuitously with his natural storytelling ability and effortless prose style, like the consummate host who makes it all look easy. For those who want more, he appends a chapter-by-chapter bibliography. A well-nigh perfect blend of erudition and entertainment.