There is something cheering about a world in which we can argue about fish knives. Anne Glenconner, once lady in waiting to Princess Margaret, raised the issue this week at the Cheltenham Literary Festival where she was promoting her book on picnics. She recalled having lunch with Camilla and her sister Annabel Elliot and when the waiter presented them with a choice of normal or fish knives, the three of them began in unison: “Phone for the fish knives, Norman”, the opening line of John Betjeman’s satirical poem, How To Get on in Society. Poor waiter.
The point, you see, is that no one in Royal circles would use fish knives, any more than they would commit any of the other crimes against etiquette mentioned in the poem – calling the sitting room, the lounge; napkins, serviettes; and the loo or lavatory the toilet. At Buckingham Palace, Camilla will never be affronted by the sight of a fish knife, because all its cutlery is pre-Victorian (when the item was first invented for the increasingly affluent middle class). It is, accordingly, a middle class item of cutlery, so not grand. It is however perfectly useful, just as pastry forks (also taboo) are perfectly useful. I’d rather use a fish knife for eating fish than two forks, which people do who have Georgian silver, though at home I find a normal knife serves the purpose very well.
It may be that a society is a little less inclined to subside into anarchy if we are worried about our cutlery
This is not, however, why sellers are practically giving away fish knife sets on eBay; look closely if you’re buying cutlery and if you find a set is marvellously cheap it may be a fish set and you will find yourself with an item that condemns you as the Carole Middleton of your social circle. The reason for the decline, however, is that eating with cutlery isn’t really where Gen Z is at. This is the generation that uses bowls rather than plates (handier for noodles and pasta), doesn’t have a dining table (no room) and doesn’t use corkscrews (only 27 percent, according to Lakeland). The question of fish knives versus two forks has almost certainly passed it by.
In a way, it’s a shame. If we are judging each other by fish knives, we are setting store by our social standing and respectability, which gives a humorous aspect to social relations for those who don’t mind about these things, and a social marker for those who do. It may be that a society is a little less inclined to subside into anarchy if we are worried about our cutlery. The things we use to eat are a matter of almost anthropological interest.
In fact, snobbery generally is one of the things that helpfully allows us to distinguish our lot from the other lot in an unsettled social order. It’s one reason why Nicky Haslam’s annual list on a tea-towel, Things Nicky Finds Common (“Grieving. Italian food.”) is so mesmerising, but clever Nicky bypasses criticism by making it his list and therefore unarguable. I bet he wouldn’t even bother putting “fish knives” on his tea-towel; he’d take that as read. There is, however, a naturally rebellious element to my nature, and let me tell you how I am going to let it out: I shall buy a set of (nice cheap) fish knives and use it when the smart set comes to dine. That’ll show ‘em.
