Elizabeth Bishop’s poem Manners shows the reader what lessons were taught and how they were taught to her by her grandfather. Irony is used heavily in the poem, showing how manners and good behavior in general are only useful for self-gratification and are usually ignored by anyone that they are directed towards.
The irony in the poem is reinforced through the use of diction and comic relief, as these devices are used to display the disillusionment the author is facing as she reflects on her grandfather’s lessons with child-like eyes. The diction also implicitly makes this poem a frame story. Manners, though, is ultimately about disillusionment with a new world order, that is, a massive change in how people interact, or don’t interact, with each other.
Irony is a literary device that “uses contradictory statements or situations to reveal a reality different from what appears to be true” (Meyer, The Compact Bedford Introduction to Literature, 1533). Diction is simply how the author chooses to express themselves via their words, phrases, sentence structures, and figurative language, while comic relief is an attempt to break-up tension in a serious piece of art. Irony is the main literary device used in the poem, as it is present throughout its entirety.
The use of irony, however, is seen through two other literary devices, diction and comic relief. Bishop had this poem published in the year 1965, which, considering she was born in 1911, made her fifty-four years old (Meyer, 582). So, assuming that the poem holds at least some truth to past events in her life, it is revealed that the purposely child-like diction of Manners was done not just for narrative effect (specifically, place us in her shoes next to her grandfather receiving these lessons), but also as a way to accentuate the irony previously mentioned.
First of all, the use of a simple rhyming scheme that is more or less irregular reminds the reader of a simple nursery rhyme one would hear and recite as a child. One example can be found in the second stanza, “We met a stranger on foot/ My grandfather’s whip tapped his hat./ ‘Good day sir. Good day. A fine day.’/ And I said it and bowed where I sat” (s 5-8). There is a simple rhyme scheme (“tapped”, “hat”, and “sat”) and actions plainly stated (“Met a stranger”, “Whip tapped his hat”, “…bowed where I sat”).
There is no extra exposition, such as how she or her grandfather looked or felt that day, nor is there any notice given as to the physical environment at the time. Even though the poem’s grandfather and child are explicitly said to have greeted the stranger, there is an emptiness in the lack of an expression of a response from the man on the road.
The very first stanza provides us another perfect example, “My grandfather said to me/ As we sat on the wagon seat/ ‘Be sure to remember to always/ Speak to everyone you meet’” (1-4). The irony in this is that the grandfather is unheeded by even his granddaughter. If she had answered, Bishop most likely would have mentioned this in some way as seen in the previously mentioned, when the little girl mimicked her grandfather’s lesson.
Why should a person greet everyone they meet, when those people fail to reciprocate? The diction ironically displays the child’s innocence and naivete as she looks at her grandfather’s good manners go unheeded and, though the little girl fails to notice this, an older more reflective Bishop sees this plainly through the younger girl’s eyes.
In a sense, there is a dramatic irony, and this becomes a frame story. The old man teaching the girl being the first and innermost frame, the second frame surrounding this is Bishop’s reflection, and the third and outermost frame being the reader seeing this through Bishop’s and the little girl’s eyes.
Comic relief is featured in the poem as well, the first bit can be read in the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth verses. In these verses, the grandfather, following the previous advice of speaking to everyone you meet, and some new advice, “‘Always offer everyone a ride;/ Don’t forget that when you get older’” (s 11-12), allows a boy they know, Willy ( 13), to hitch a ride (“Willy/ Climbed up with us” (s 13-14)). The bird that Willy possesses flies off, “… but the crow… flew off” ( 15), thankfully, despite the little girl’s worry (“I was worried./ How would he know where to go?” (s 15-16)), the bird returns, “And when Willy whistled he answered.” ( 19).
The comic relief comes when the grandfather, in response to the bird’s quick obedience, says, “‘A fine bird…/ And he’s well brought up. See, he answers/ Nicely when he’s spoken to.” (19-22). Besides the natural absurdity of personification in this example, one can also see humor in the irony of the situation.
First off, the bird is so far the only living being that has responded to this old man’s honor code of “Always talk to those you meet ( 4)”. Two people that the grandfather have spoken to thus far, the little girl and the man on they passed on the road, have ignored this rule (which is even more insulting coming from the little girl, considering he is the one that he delivered the lesson to); in a sad way, the fact that the bird is the only one that has used this lesson (perhaps besides Willy), is a joke in that it makes a mockery of the grandfather’s values.
If only a crow follows these lessons, and maybe a close friend, where is the value in these nuggets of wisdom that the old man doles out? The dark comic relief is also consistently ironic, with the personification of a bird being human implying that this is the only character so far that has used the grandfather’s first bit of wisdom.
The second piece of comic relief comes directly after and is much more obvious, but no less sad. We see the beginning of an unstoppable invasion of high technology right after “When automobiles pass by/ The dust hid the peoples’ faces/ But we shouted ‘Good day! Good day!/ Fine day!’ at the top of our voices” (s 24-27).
The fact that the two are on a wagon ( 2) juxtaposes with the automobile passing by, presumably much faster than any wagon, and shows how the world is quickly becoming faster and thus more alienating at least partly due to this speed, a sentiment that some echo today in new, modern, fast-paced lifestyles that are necessary to function in a society dependent on high technology like cars. The comic relief, though, lies within the dust being kicked up into the faces of the little girl and man.
The automobile at this time, though slow relative to our standards, was quick enough to escape the dust it invariably kicked up on dirt roads. So, we can infer that the dust hiding the peoples’ faces is thick and close enough to reduce the eyesight of anyone in a slow wagon or on foot.
They still, however, shout their greetings to the speeding stranger, almost unaware of the fact that they cannot be heard, and the driver hardly cares even if they can hear. The comic relief is in itself ironic, simply because of the fact that it is sad that a futile act such as theirs was even done in the first place.
Finally, the very last stanza provides more comic relief when the two “… got down and walked” because the “mare was tired” (s 29-30). Why would a beast of burden, that which they used to transport themselves in the first place, be abandoned simply because it seemed tired? It was done because their “good manners required” ( 32), but why are these good manners “required” if they yield no results?
The absurdity and futility of their act is where the ironic sadness is found. The comic relief is also self-ironic here, considering that they are working themselves instead of the beast of burden expressly used for this purpose.
So, Manners by Elizabeth Bishop is ultimately an ironic reflection and the irony present therein primarily stems from the diction and comic relief used in the poem. The poem is implicitly formatted as a frame story, the evidence being the child-like diction used to express an ironic reflection on her grandfather’s failed honor code.
The first frame is the little girl, the second is Bishop, and the third is the reader, and the irony present in the diction comes from the fact that the first frame is that of a little girl who knows no better, and the second being the older Bishop who knows that her grandfather’s wisdom was at least obsolete, if not always defunct.
