Showing posts with label etiquette. Show all posts
Showing posts with label etiquette. Show all posts

Monday, July 19, 2021

Five ways in which the Regency rocked


The following was originally posted in 2015 and now feels rather dated, but it still makes me smile. I hope it will do the same for you, dear reader.

There is a certain class of people who, upon learning of my Jane Austen obsession, feel the need to explain why the modern world is superior to that of the Regency. “But the 19th century was a terrible place to live! Women didn’t have any rights, most people lived in squalor, and you were lucky to survive your infancy!” Of course I realize that Jane Austen’s world was not just one of manor homes, top boots, and ladies maids (I do spend three months in Portsmouth with the Price family every time I read Mansfield Park). I have a massive appreciation for modern plumbing, medicine (especially the medicine!), electricity, and something resembling gender equality, but that does not mean that there are not ways in which the Regency period was superior to our current era. I am working on a novel entitled Being Mrs. Bennet, in which a modern woman, following a car crash, finds herself inhabiting the body of probably the worst mother Austen ever foisted upon heroine. Alison Bateman finds much of the early 19th century disconcerting, but she also discovers aspects to treasure. One can adapt to almost anything.

I planned this post to be a list of reasons why the Regency remains superior to the modern world. I intend this list to be egalitarian, so it does not include privileges and luxuries that belonged to the upper classes alone, and I confess: it was rather difficult to make. It started out as a top ten, then narrowed to a top eight, etc, until finally levelling out as the top five reasons why I think Jane Austen’s world was superior to ours. Enjoy!



1. Caps

A married woman used to wake up in the morning and plop a frilly cap on her head. Hairdressing done. I call the cap the Regency equivalent to the ponytail in Being Mrs. Bennet, and it is true, but how many of us actually get to wear that ponytail to work? Thanks to makeover shows, a ponytail is derided as boring and lazy, where as a cap could be fashionable and even becoming. Somewhere in the course of women’s liberation, we messed this one up.



2. Custom Shoes

You couldn’t share shoes with your friends and relations back in the day. Each shoe was made for and molded to a particular foot. Today you can buy handmade Italian leather shoes for somewhere in the range of $1000 a pop, but this buttery and luscious feel of slipping your foot into such a concoction used to be much more accessible. Of course men’s boots, those of both the laboring classes and the gentry, would be made of sturdier stuff that needed to be broken in, but once that first round of blisters healed you had a shoe that hugged the contours of your feet perfectly.




3. Cheap Live Entertainment

One need not be a mogul to attend the theater in the Regency Era. Even the most lavish venues had seats cheap enough to accommodate the working classes. Now even our sporting events are beyond the reach of many, television having rendered live entertainment a luxury item. Sigh.



4. Standardized Mourning Rituals

Having been to more than my fair share of funerals lately and experienced mourning rituals ranging over a wide swath of cultural and religious beliefs, I really think it would be nice to have not an imposed period of mourning (that would be far too stifling), but the broadly recognized need for a person to step outside their normal activities and take the time to grieve. I also like the idea of wearing all black, or having some other, external signifier of grief, so that others know to approach you with care, preferably without looking like an overgrown Goth kid. I also like that they had gradations of mourning. Black ribbons in my hair would have been perfectly appropriate for my cousin’s death last year, while my grandfather’s loss made me crave bombazine and a heavily veiled bonnet. Can’t wear that to the supermarket!




5. Etiquette

While some of the imposed social rituals of the 19th century, like calling cards, are archaic in our modern world of cell phones, they represent a code of behavior designed to help humans interact with each other in a peaceful and orderly manner. We’ve lost a lot of that. I could really go on and on with this topic, which would end up being preachy, at best, so I’ll just beg each reader to hold the door for someone, wait for others to exit before you enter, and say excuse me when you step in someone’s path. The world could be such a happier place.

There you have it! What is your favorite thing about the Regency Era? Anything you would gladly trade for today? Or has Jeanna inspired any one else to confess their closely held secrets to the world?

Friday, July 18, 2014

Etiquette: The Mourning Period

My husband and I find ourselves often consulting the copy of The Amy Vanderbilt Complete Book of Etiquette by Nancy Tuckerman and Nancy Dunnan that his mother gave him upon graduation from high school. It is a bit dated, the 1995 edition we own having last been updated in 1978, but we find it an extremely useful guide when we have questions about how to appropriately proceed. I know we are discussing modern manners, not those of Jane Austen's era, but I have decided to start posting when we consult the book, as I just find it so fascinating. Miss Austen, after all, would want us all to be well-mannered, wouldn't she?

My grandfather has been dead for a week, and I find myself drawn back to Ms. Vanderbilt and what she has to say about wearing black.

Some people take much longer than others to recover from the death of a loved one The healing time should never be rushed; in fact, expressing grief is an important part of the recovery process. There is no longer such a thing as a prescribed mourning period for those close to the deceased. In the past, a widow or widower was expected to mourn (and wear black) for a year or, in some religions, for the rest of his or her life. Fortunately this has changed. Sensible people would want their surviving loved ones to continue on with life. 

I can't argue with the part about not mourning forever, but I think we have lost something in the relaxation of mourning expectations. Some people might be able to turn around and resume their normal lives, but I think most of us find it rather difficult. In the days when we donned arm bands and bombazine, everyone could see a mile away we that we grieved. There was no need to explain, and all knew delicacy might be required when interacting with a mourner. I wish I had that barrier of protection now. I think I'd prefer to be anxious for a period of mourning to end than feel it was inadequate.

Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Etiquette: Funerals and Mourning

My husband and I find ourselves often consulting the copy of The Amy Vanderbilt Complete Book of Etiquette by Nancy Tuckerman and Nancy Dunnan that his mother gave him upon graduation from high school. It is a bit dated, the 1995 edition we own having last been updated in 1978, but we find it an extremely useful guide when we have questions about how to appropriately proceed. I know we are discussing modern manners, not those of Jane Austen's era, but I have decided to start posting when we consult the book, as I just find it so fascinating. Miss Austen, after all, would want us all to be well-mannered, wouldn't she?

It has been years since I did one of these posts. Truly, I'm surprised it didn't occur to me to consult Amy Vanderbilt in May when my grandmother died, or even better, a few months earlier when a cousin died. If I had, I wouldn't now be reading in agony as I count the faux pas committed at her memorial service. Now my grandfather is dying. The one who raised me. Finally I seek Ms. Vanderbilt's advice and find it profuse.

Of course, funerals were very different affairs now than in Jane Austen's day, when they were all male, processional affairs (for an elaborate discussion of period funerary customs, check out this post at The Regency Redingote). Yet for all the obvious differences, probably the most significant is the length and importance of the mourning period, to which Ms. Vanderbilt gives a nod:

Some people take much longer than others to recover from the death of a loved one. The healing time should never be rushed; in fact, expressing grief is an important part of the recovery process. There is no longer such a thing as a prescribed mourning period for those close to the deceased. In the past, a widow or widower was expected to mourn (and wear black) for a year or, in some religions, for the rest of his or her life. Fortunately this has changed. Sensible people would want their surviving loved ones to continue on with life.

Today, as soon as one feels up to it, social and business activities may be resumed. Well-meaning friends should be sensitive and not push social engagements on someone who has lost a spouse until that person indicates interest. On the other hand, one would obviously not give or attend wild parties or go dancing immediately after the funeral of a loved one.

I cannot even begin to replicate the twenty plus pages she dedicates to funerary matters, so beyond this noted difference from the 19th century, I'm just going to focus on her list of Do's and Don't for the modern mourner, as I think it gives a good overview:

  • Whether or not you attend a funeral is a decision only you can make, depending on your relationship to the deceased. Never criticize someone for not attending a funeral.
  • When talking about death, stay clear of euphemisms like "he passed away," or "She's found her resting place." Death is what it is. Pretending otherwise is unrealistic.
  • Unless you are an intimate friend of the deceased's family, don't drop by their house to offer your condolences. Call first. When you do call, ask if there is anything you can do to be of help to the family. Or make your offer very specific, such as putting up relatives of friends from out of town.
  • In you cannot go to the funeral home during calling hours, you can stop in at another time. Be sure to sign the guest book, so the family knows you were there (even though you sin your name in the guest book, you should still write a condolence letter).
  • If the obituary notice states that the funeral is private, do not ask to attend.
  • If you attend a funeral and the internment is private, do not go to the internment unless specifically asked to.
  • When you arrive at the church or funeral home, you will be shown to a seat by an usher. A woman does not take the usher's arm at a funeral, unless she is frail or unsteady on her feet.
  • If the clergy person announces at the end of the funeral that you are invited to the deceased's family's house for lunch and you already have a lunch date, drop by anyway for a few minutes. The family will be grateful you did.
  • When a Jewish family is sitting shivah, it means they are available for condolence calls, especially during morning or evening prayers. It's best not to come at mealtimes, and calls are never made on the Sabbath -- from Friday sundown to Saturday sundown. If you are uncertain about when to make a visit, you may call the family and ask.
  • Try to remember a friend who has had a recent death in the family when Christmas or some other holiday comes around. This is a time when she will most need your love and support. Instead of a Christmas card, write a note saying, "I know this Christmas will a sad one for you, but I cannot let it go by without your knowing you are in my thoughts and that I send you a great deal of love." You can be certain this thoughtful gesture will be important to your friend.
  • Mark the date of the deceased's death on your calendar so you can write a note to your friend, the survivor, on the anniversary. Just a short note saying you're thinking of her will be a source of comfort. Flowers are also appropriate at this time. 
As the anniversary of my friend's father's death next month, I will be acting on the last one.

The Amy Vanderbilt Complete Book of Etiquette was definitely written for a largely protestant audience, but her slant and the mentioning of shivah made me consider how different all the funerals I have attended over the past eleven months have been. One was Episcopalian. The turnout was enormous for an important man struck down in his prime. I imagine this was the kind of funeral Ms. Vanderbilt largely had in mind. Next I attended a small, intimate Baptist funeral. Far less formal, with hours spent back at the family home afterwards. Attendees were asked to stand and share any thoughts they wanted to share. This was also the predominate feature of the most recent funeral, my grandmother's, which was a Quaker ceremony. Almost the entire family stood and shared recollections, as did her many friends in attendance. It was simple, short, but beautiful. When my grandfather dies we will sit shivah. Having grown up in his house, it is the jewish mourning ritual with which I am most familiar. I presume it will be at my aunt and uncle's house, and we will spend the better part of the week burying, praying, telling stories, and perhaps most importantly eating. Food will play a much bigger and more formal role in in this mourning process. I wish Ms. Vanderbilt had advice on how not to overeat.

Despite differences in religion, time, and culture, I think the fundamentals of funerals and mourning are pretty universal. Death is a fissure that changes forever those closest to the departed. When it is a parent or grandparent, the roots that have always supported you are suddenly chopped away, the slightest breeze makes you waver, and the future seem terrifyingly insecure and lonely. With time, we recover, but the wound remains. The care and companionship inherent in mourning provides much needed TLC as mourners struggle to figure out what the world is without this dead person in it to turn to, talk to, and love.  

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Etiquette: Breast Feeding

My husband and I find ourselves often consulting the copy of The Amy Vanderbilt Complete Book of Etiquette by Nancy Tuckerman and Nancy Dunnan that his mother gave him upon graduation from high school. It is a bit dated, the 1995 edition we own having last been updated in 1978, but we find it an extremely useful guide when we have questions about how to appropriately proceed. I know we are discussing modern manners, not those of Jane Austen's era, but I have decided to start posting when we consult the book, as I just find it so fascinating. Miss Austen, after all, would want us all to be well-mannered, wouldn't she?

Has it really been a month since I last posted? Unbelievable. Time is flying by. My massive child is wearing 9 month clothes at 16 weeks, and I find it incredibly difficult to focus on anything other than her. There are may things I intend to blog about, but this topic is foremost in my mind, and I feel the need to apologize for posting a rather unpopular etiquette rant instead of the long overdue Edward Ferrars profile. Sorry! But really, my brain is good for little other than baby these days. 


I am breast feeding my daughter. It is a subject on which  I could speak out at length, expressing its challenges and triumphs, but such information is a bit too personal to share. What I am happy to categorically admit is that I've found breast feeding to be an extremely private experience, which is why I have never become comfortable feeding in public. I certainly feel that I have the right to, should it be necessary, but I just don't really want to. I know it makes others uncomfortable, like it or not, and isn't the entire point of etiquette and manners to not cause discomfort in public? I find it extremely fascinating that Romanticism triggered a popularization of breast feeding among the English upper classes in the early 19th century, having embraced it as closer to nature, but this was certainly an activity confined to the home. This is a complex issue, one every mother must address individually, but here is what Amy Vanderbilt has to say on the subject (remember that this was written in the 70's): 

"Now that medical science has pretty much confirmed the notion that breast feeding is healthier than bottle feeding (it passes along various antibodies that formula cannot), the issue of where and how to breast-feed in public arises. Despite Americans' propensity for selling everything from beer to bicycles with sex, we are still, at heart, a puritanical society. Therefore, the sight of a bare breast, even one performing its natural function, may make many people uneasy. Though a nursing mother will not view her breast as anything other than a convenient way to feed her baby, it is best to be circumspect about nursing in front of others."

I must state that I continue to view my breasts as much more than just a nourishment delivery system. 


"While a variety of breast-feeding books are available in bookstores to provide you with ideas for breast feeding discretely, common sense dictates most of them. If you don't want to express your milk at home and carry it with you in a bottle so you can feed in public, find a secluded spot and toss a billowy scarf over your chest and the baby's head. You might even want to buy a few blouses with slits behind the pockets which were designed just for this purpose. In a restaurant that caters to children, you can always go to the ladies room to breast-feed." - this is not necessarily true - "Owners of children's stores are particularly sympathetic when it comes to breast feeding and may allow you a few minutes in a private area, such as an office. If you are visiting friends, ask your hostess if anyone will be made uncomfortable by your breast feeding in front of them. If so, ask if you can go into some other room when it's time to nurse."

Monday, April 4, 2011

Etiquette: Calling Cards

My husband and I find ourselves often consulting the copy of The Amy Vanderbilt Complete Book of Etiquette by Nancy Tuckerman and Nancy Dunnan that his mother gave him upon graduation from high school. It is a bit dated, the 1995 edition we own having last been updated in 1978, but we find it an extremely useful guide when we have questions about how to appropriately proceed. I know we are discussing modern manners, not those of Jane Austen's era, but I have decided to start posting when we consult the book, as I just find it so fascinating. Miss Austen, after all, would want us all to be well-mannered, wouldn't she?
It was all said very gracefully, and the cards with which she had provided herself, the "Miss Elliot at home," were laid on the table, with a courteous, comprehensive smile to all, and one smile and one card more decidedly for Captain Wentworth. - Persuasion
I am beginning to plan out my birth announcement, so I do not have to worry about them after the baby's birth, and in the process I consulted Amy Vanderbilt to learn what the etiquette is regarding this practice. In the process, I came across a section of the book dealing with calling cards. As we Janeites know so well, calling cards were de rigueur in the Regency Era, but they are not commonly encountered in our modern times, so I found this section absolutely fascinating. It begins with a bit of a history of the practice:
Until World War I, "calling" on friends and acquaintances at their residences was an important formal social custom. This duty fell to the woman of the household. If the person she was calling on was not home, she left her husband's calling card with her own on a sterling card tray set on a table in the front hall of every genteel home. Only on certain occasions, such as calls of condolence or congratulations, or calls on the sick, would a man make an appearance and leave his own card in person. 

Also known as visiting cards, from the French cartes de visite, personal calling cards with matching envelopes have gone the way of many of life's formalities and are no longer thought of as a social necessity. For the most part they are used only by men and women who can afford the luxury of their distinctive look and by those in diplomatic and military circles. 

There are several reasons why calling cards are no longer popular: by tradition they are engraved, an expense which is not within most people's budget; they can no longer be used an invitations since their envelopes are smaller than the minimum post office requirements; we have become less rigid when it comes to conforming to stationary protocol and for the most part have replaced the calling card as a gift enclosure with an informal - which allows for more writing space - or with a store's gift enclosure card. Even though calling cards may not be as popular as they once were, it's doubtful they will never completely disappear. As an enclosure card with flowers or any kind of present, nothing can replace their quality and distinction. 
Now as I've mentioned before, this book is rather dated. In the digital age, engraving stationary is not a prohibitive expense, and though Amy Vanderbilt cold not foresee the day, I imagine it is safe to assume that she would be reasonably appalled by the modern practice of online gifts coming with gift receipts, often printed in all capitals on super shoddy paper. Furthermore, I am surprised she does not mention the role telephones must have played in eliminating the need for this style of cumbersome visitation. When a person can just pick up a phone and ask when they might stop by, let alone email, tweet, or use Facebook, why stoop by and leave a card? It's a waste of time and gas. Still, it is a quaint old custom. She goes on to address what the cards look like:
In order to distinguish a calling card from a business card, which it resembles closely in size, it's frequently referred to as a social card. While white is the most popular color for a calling card, you may prefer cream color. Either is correct. Calling cards are always engraved in black ink. A script typeface is traditional and is therefore considered by some the correct lettering style for a calling card. Actually any simple face is correct; what you want to avoid are quaint or ornate letters not in keeping with the formality of the card.


It's up to you whether you have just your name on your calling card or your name and address. If you do include your address, it's engraved in small letters without abbreviations in the lower right-hand corner of your card. If there's any possibility of your moving from where you presently live, you certainly would not want to go to the expense of engraving your address. If you choose not to include your address, you can always handwrite it and/or your telephone number on the card.
The next section deals with writing messages on callling cards:
While you don't have to write a message on your calling card, to do so is certainly more personal. If you are enclosing your card with flowers to the family of a friend who has died, all that's necessary is a brief message handwritten on the face of the card: "With deepest sympathy." The same thing applies when you enclose your card with a present: "With best wishes for your happiness always"; "Have a great graduation party." In the case of close friends, to personalize your card, put a fine diagonal line through your name and sign above it "Love, Helen" or "Jim" as the case may be. For those you don't know well, you can put a line through your title and first name only and write "Helen" above. Write the recipient's name, or name and address, on the front of the envelope. This is important in case the store mislays the card. Unless the message is personal, the envelope is left unsealed.
Now as they were not yet using envelopes for letters, it seems safe to assume, and it also agrees with the way their use is described in Austen, but it does seem very reasonable to assume that members of Regency society did write messages on their cards, as Elizabeth Elliot has done in the passage I quoted at the beginning of this post. Amy Vanderbilt goes on to describe the specific dimensions of calling cards, which are different for men, women, and couples, as well as the specifics of how names should be presented upon the cards.

So what has all this to do with birth announcements? The following passage elucidates:
A nice way to announce the birth of a baby is to attach a small, engraved calling card, bearing the baby's name, to the father and mother's card. Sometimes the baby's card is pink- or blue-bordered and attached to the larger card with a pink or blue ribbon.
I have to wonder what Amy Vanderbilt would have to say about the modern practice of sending a picture card. I have absolutely no notion if he would think it "a nice way to announce the birth of a baby" or totally tacky. Your thoughts?

Monday, February 28, 2011

Etiquette: "Bread and Butter" Letters

My husband and I find ourselves often consulting the copy of The Amy Vanderbilt Complete Book of Etiquette by Nancy Tuckerman and Nancy Dunnan that his mother gave him upon graduation from high school. It is a bit dated, the 1995 edition we own having last been updated in 1978, but we find it an extremely useful guide when we have questions about how to appropriately proceed. I know we are discussing modern manners, not those of Jane Austen's era, but I have decided to start posting when we consult the book, as I just find it so fascinating. Miss Austen, after all, would want us all to be well-mannered, wouldn't she?

Having just returned from my grandparent's house, where I stayed over the weekend, I am confronted with having to write the requisite thank you note in appreciation for their hospitality. Though I have never before consulted an etiquette book regarding this duty, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to consult Amy Vanderbilt and share with you my findings. I learned that this particular kind of thank you note is referred to as a "bread and butter" letter, a term I had not previously heard, but I was gratified to learn that my previous habits in writing these letters has been correct. Vanderbilt has this to say:

Whether you spend a night or a weekend at someone's house, you must always send a thank-you letter to you host and hostess within a week of your return home. Take time to write an enthusiastic and appreciative letter, mentioning something you did that particularly appealed to you or people you met who impressed you. If you did not take a present with you when you visited, now is the time to send one with a gift enclosure card reiterating your thanks.  

Now despite the fact that these are my grandparents I am writing to, I only see them a few times a year (they live in Texas, while I reside in Delaware), so I think a note of appreciation not only highly appropriate, but also very appreciated. However, I will forgo sending a hostess gift. They are my grandparents, after all, and I believe that a gift from me on such an occasion would be regarded as wasteful spending. However, if I were staying with my other grandmother (who I am visiting in Florida in two weeks), I would feel very much the opposite. I will be bringing her a token gift, probably a box of candy (which she always enjoys), along with me. Two weeks latter, when my husband and I are visiting his cousins in New York, we will spend more money and bring them a bottle of wine. It is my thought that when we are dealing with close relatives, knowledge of their tastes and habits should inform our behavior regarding such formalities.

Under the category of letter writing, Vanderbilt gets into more specifics and also includes an example: 

If you're a guest of friends for a night or longer, unless you visit them on a regular basis, when a telephone call is all that's necessary, write them a letter of thanks, known as a "bread and butter" letter. Here are a few helpful points to remember when writing this kind of letter:

- Unless there's a good reason for not doing so, write your thank-you letter no more than three days after the visit.

- The letter may be directed to the wife of the couple or to both. If only to the wife, mention of her husband is made: "Do tell Jim I loved fishing with him," or "Many thanks to you and Jim."

- While only one person writes a bread and butter letter, that person thanks on behalf of his or her spouse and any other members of the family.

- Make a few significant remarks about the visit: the guest bedroom was comfortable; how good the meals were; how much you enjoyed meeting a particular person; what fun a picnic was; or anything that was new or different.

Dear Rachel,
     All the way back on the train, Joe and I did nothing but talk about the weekend and what fun we had. Staying in your cozy apartment is always a treat to say nothing of the gourmet meals you presented with seemingly little effort. Joe particularly enjoyed getting together with the Randolphs and having the chance to see the Matisse exhibition.
     There's no couple we'd rather visit than you and Alex and we send our thanks to both of you for giving us such a wonderful time.
                                                                                      Love,
                                                                                          Marilyn  

In the section immediately following this, Vanderbilt tells you what to do when you fail to receive a thank you note for a present sent, but as she says nothing about not getting a thank you following the departure of house guests, I assume this is the kind of courtesy to be thankful for when observed but not one to fret about when, as is probably usually the case, it is not. She also says nothing regarding the necessity of writing a thank you for a hostess gift, which makes me assume it is unnecessary. I do, however, frequently write such notes, particularly when the gift is something special.

So now I am off to write my very own "bread and butter" note. I feel thoroughly prepared to do so.  

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Etiquette: Attending a Christening

My husband and I find ourselves often consulting the copy of The Amy Vanderbilt Complete Book of Etiquette by Nancy Tuckerman and Nancy Dunnan that his mother gave him upon graduation from high school. It is a bit dated, the 1995 edition we own having last been updated in 1978, but we find an extremely useful guide when we have questions about how to appropriately proceed. I know we are discussing modern manners, not those of Jane Austen's era, but I have decided to start posting when we consult the book, as I just find it so fascinating. Miss Austen, after all, would want us all to be well-mannered, wouldn't she?

I have only attended a baptism, and only one, and as I was in college at the time and was, essentially, the guest of my boyfriend (now husband), I did not trouble myself about gift giving. But now that I have been invited to a christening by a couple with whom we are not only good friends, but also with whom my husband has a former business relationship with, it seemed that we should make sure we are going about the occasion in the correct way. So out came Amy Vanderbilt, who has three full pages on the ceremonial aspects of christenings and baptisms, and she had this to say about gifts:
The godparent gives the baby a christening present which is traditionally something of fine and lasting quality. It may be a sterling silver mug, a porringer, or a napkin ring with the baby's name and the date of the christening engraved on it. Guests at a christening usually give the baby a present, although those who gave one at birth should not feel obligated to give another. Presents are ordinarily opened after the guests have left the lunch or tea. You should keep a list of everyone who gave presents and write a note thanking each person for being a part of such a special day in the baby's life as well as for the present.
If you were wondering, Merriam-Webster defines "porringer" as "a low usually metal bowl with a single and usually flat and pierced handle". You know, like the kind of thing Goldilocks are porridge out of.
 
My husband and I did give a gift at birth - I worked a cross stitch pattern on two bibs - but we think we will bring something token as an additional memento of the event. I was thinking a book of fairytales, with a personal note to the baby written on the inside cover (of course). I did also look up git giving in the index, and double checked with the section titled  "The Inappropriate Present", just to learn what the boundaries were:
An inappropriate present is one that shows poor judgment or bad taste, or gives the impression you are asking for a favor in return. For instance, it would be thoughtless to surprise a friend with a dog when she may or not have the time or inclination to care for one. In addition, the gift of a secondhand car is of little or no use to someone who won't be able to afford the insurance. You should show discretion about giving expensive jewelry, especially to a young person, and common sense about giving something to someone you're in a business deal with. If you give careful thought to matching the present with the recipient, the chances of giving an inappropriate present are greatly diminished.
So my book idea seems pretty safe. The the inscription will always remind him that we were there for him on this day, yet it isn't overly extravagant and doesn't trespass the bounds of our relationship with the family. Plus, we love books, so it suits the giver as well as the receiver, who will hopefully enjoy it for years to come.

I also though this interesting, on the role older children should play at a christening, although in this case there are none:
The christening is a time for family and friends to be aware of, and sensitive towards, young siblings of the baby. It's only natural for brothers and sisters to feel somewhat jealous of all the attention the new baby is receiving. To help them feel more special they may be given a featured role in the proceedings: carrying flowers or the special missal or prayer book. Guests, too, should make a fuss over young siblings of the guest of honor, perhaps giving each a small present, or it may be a combined present.
I admit I had to look up "missal". Here's the Merriam-Webster definition and orgination, just in case anyone else was wondering:
A book containing all that is said or sung at mass during the entire year. 
Middle English messel, from Anglo-French & Medieval Latin; Anglo-French missal, messel, from Medieval Latin missale, from neuter of missalis of the mass, from Late Latin missa mass — more at mass
First Known Use: 14th century
Just thought I'd share!