Tuesday, December 22, 2015

Gifts We Give

I was industriously wrapping presents for my Pledges and Mijnheer van Voorhees when I came to the wallet Pledge One had asked for on his Christmas list. It was poignant for two reasons: A) He's old enough for wallets! And not ones that have cartoon characters and Velcro on them! B ) A wallet is the first gift I gave his father in our courtship. 
He had an old leather wallet he had bought in Argentina and it was falling apart. We had been dating for six months or so, the opening salvos in our discussion about marriage had been made, so a gift exchange was definitely in the cards (for me. I think I took him by surprise so he ran out and got an Erykah Badu CD). Anyway, a wallet was not binding to him in any way--he would not feel embarrassed about it if we ever broke up but it was nice enough that I thought it was, in the words of O. Henry, "...just a little bit near to being worthy of the honour of being owned by" him.

One of my favorite books in The Canon is "Winter Wedding" which has one of the best exchanges of gifts. The heroine doesn't wish to presume. The hero has been holding onto a locket he bought in a panic of guilt. But the guilt has gone and it means more now:

...paused at the last unopened gift to watch the Professor. She hadn't known what to give him; he had everything, so in the end she had settled for a silver mouse with a long tail, small enough to go into a pocket or for that matter, tuck away in a drawer and forget. She studied his face anxiously as he opened it and was pleased to see that he slipped it at once into his waistcoat pocket. Only then did she untie her last preset.
It was a small velvet box and inside was her locket and a little card: "With best wishes from Renier Jurres-Romeijn." She fastened it around her neck with fingers that shook and presently when he came to thank her for the mouse, she asked urgently, "Did you buy it--my locket? Was it you who got there before Louisa? 

What were your first gifts of courtship?

9 comments:

  1. A wallet - a real grown-up wallet - just the right thing for a young man in high school.

    About Emily's locket: in a panic of guilt?
    Guilt because, in an indirect way, he felt he was responsible for the theft, because without his invitation to the ball Louisa would not have thought of stealing the locket?

    I've never seen it that way. I have always thought the Professor felt sorry for Emily, felt how wrong it was for Louisa to sell her sister's locket, and that's why he made it his business to find out where she had pawned it and bought it back for Emily. Awfully nice of him. sigh

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  2. I didn't see the Professor's purchase of the locket as guilt, either. To me it seemed more like he felt he was righting a wrong. The surprising thing is that he saved it for Christmas--I loved that he already knew he would be giving her a Christmas gift.

    My spouse and I have been together since 1981, I don't have the faintest memory of our first gifts to each other! I'm new here-- I just discovered Betty Neels last spring (when your FB page popped up on my "things you might be interested in" feed on FB) and I've read more than fifty of them already. So glad to know others share my obsession.

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    1. Only about eighty more to go! Lucky you - so many new Betty novels to discover! Welcome!

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  3. Guilt in the locket buying? Yes, I think there's some there. He's not fine with how he spoke about her at the hospital and I think he sees that she got the short end of the stick about her clothing and was treated even worse when she was gotten drunk. I don't think he thinks those things are his fault, per se. But I do think that his feelings go beyond pity and is sorry that his actions haven't been kind. (And, really, I think that guilt (feeling sorry for how he behaved) speaks better of him and his character than pity (feeling sorry for her)does.) I totally concede that pity is a large part of his motivations. And I allow that "panic of guilt" might have been imprecise. But guilt is there, for me, and it doesn't ruin his gesture, IMO.

    Welcome Betty Barb to the blog!

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  4. Ugh. The above was not well stated but you'll have to forgive me. Cooking dinner and typing into a box just an inch high! You'll forgive me, I sure.

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    1. On the contrary, you stated that very well! I see your point. The way you phrased it, I can only say: You are right!

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  5. First gift to my Mijnheer was a cassette tape that I made for him, of some of my favorite music that I wanted to share with him, and that he could listen to while a long way away. He was on cruise (US Navy) so it was a way to connect with him while he was at sea. I guess, looking back, it was a pretty good first gift in courtship-- sharing something of myself with him, but not a big expensive high-impact thing. Personal yet not pushy. I had forgotten all about that, Betty Keira, thanks for the post jogging my memory!

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  6. I don't remember my first gift to Mijnheer ter Wijburg, but I remember his first to me. It was a (rather gaudy) enamel butterfly brooch. He chose it because he was trying to encourage me to achieve my full potential and test my newly discovered wings. He wrote me a beautiful card explaining all of that. Butterflies have remained an important symbol to us in our relationship and we usually exchange cards with butterflies on them on our anniversary.

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  7. Love all the new Betties commenting! And yes, Keira, I agree Renier was feeling guilty, as well he ought. No one pities Neels heroines; as you noted a week or two ago, they are too plucky in the face of hardship to invoke much pity. Pshaw.

    I was trying to remember what my first gift to the almost-forgotten Melville was, but I cannot. The explanation around the Valentine's Day waffle iron is too long to convey here. Mix tapes or CDs or playlists or whatever can be wonderful gifts. The advent of e-music makes it much easier -- you don't have to come up with 90 minutes of meaningful but not too sentimental songs; you can just offer three or four on a zip drive!

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