Dear Hyacinth,
This letter has been in the making for many years. Up until now, it has been cowardice and fear that has stopped me from writing this letter. The time for timidity has passed and the time for action has arrived with great importance and must be heeded. It has been unfairness to you and myself that has kept me from expressing what I must write. This letter is not a long gripe of transient musings or a list of silly complaints. It is a document of cogent theses to improve the quality of life for those you impact. The reasons I am so compelled to write this letter are to right my conscious and to free my soul and the souls of those who are impressed by the same attitudes and dispositions. Allow me for the sake of the edification of my soul and yours to list these attitudes and dispositions.
When considering the relationships between human beings, it is obvious that there may be several difficulties that arise in tending and nurturing it. That has never been disputed and never will be. However, in the very word relationship, there is the word, 'relate'. Through the use of ordinary speech and of even the loftiest schools of thought, the word 'relate' requires there to be a mutual understanding of the value of equality. CANDOUR is the gate to enlightenment. SO, I shall be CANDID. Equality has never seemed to be one of the values we've shared. Allow me to name the ways in which you have fallen short…
You are imperious but command no empire.
Your 'Social Climbing' defeats itself, in that, your yearning to accrue 'better' friends only leads to you alienating the ones (the few) you already have for people who are uninterested and indifferent.
For your husband, who has lost his voice, be quiet and listen.
For the Vicar, whose sermons, you regularly interrupt to correct grammatically with archaic rules, be quiet and listen.
For Emmet Hawksworth, you cannot sing. So stop trying to get yourself cast in his amateur operatic plays and musicals.
For Onslow, your brother-in-law, do not force him to wear any jackets or vests.
TO relate, again, it is recognised universally that both parties must listen. It is uncertain, that you can listen. Therefore, I ought to have you read, as I am sure you are literate, or at least, you make that appearance. Indeed, you are so wrapped up in the upkeep of appearances that you are indeed creating a generally bad public image of yourself. To those with whom you want to mingle, you appear false and desparate. To those you are trying to exceed on the 'social ladder' you appear condescending, with no intellect to reinforce your attitude.
Your wild gesticulations to keep from making noises are most unpleasant to those who view it.
Your quickness to disassociate with those of a 'Lower Social Standing' makes you only appear imperious and that is most unpleasant to those who view it.
Your emotions are hidden behind a wall of false pretence, whereby it is impossible to ascertain if distress is genuine or of a superficial nature.
Your husband is emotionally drained for lack of love from you.
The general grievances continue…
Candlelight Suppers are uncomfortable and seem to be a punishment, most cruel and unusual, for a crime that has never been committed.
Being asked to judge a table for its presentation in the middle of the day is cruel and unusual.
Your shrill voice can be heard from the street, causing dogs to bark, cats to scratch, and small children in the next road to cry.
Being forced to walk to your front door is most uncomfortable and unnecessary.
Your Royal Doulton with the hand painted periwinkles is fake, with the stamp 'Made in Malaysia' appearing on the bottom of the saucers. The same set can be bought in town for fifteen pounds.
The postman openly fears your presence and you ignore it.
The milkman openly fears your presence and you ignore it.
The electric man openly fears your presence and you ignore it.
The Vicar and his wife flee your presence.
Emmet Hawksworth fears and loathes you. You punish him further by suggesting that he is physically attracted to you.
Emmet Hawksworth has prison pallor for fear of emerging to find you out of doors.
Emmet Hawksworth has nightmares about you several times a week.
Passers-by dare not walk in front of your house lest you come out and harass them.
People who are associated with you lose other friends.
People who you invite into your home are not allowed to face the window. That denial of sunlight only furthers the purpose to strip joy.
The Chinese take-away has gone out of business, because of your telephone number being off by one digit.
The gardens adjacent to your house suffers because the neighbors fear your out coming from your house
The alcoholism rate in the postal code is nearly double that of the national average.
You are generally dense.
The children of the area dress up as you for Halloween.
It has been said that you harbour ill-will towards humanity.
We, the people of your community, are not interested in your white slim-line telephone.
We are not imterseted in your sister, Violet. Nor are interested in her Mercedes, sauna, room for a pony or her villa in Ibiza.
We are not comfortable with the way you treat your husband in public.
We are not impressed with your wardrobe.
We have heard exceedingly more than we need to about your country property.
The same is true for your cruise on the QEII.
It is wrong to require coerce people into your presence.
You have caused the Vicar to have several crises of faith.
Because of you, not only is the unpleasantness of Death and Taxes imposed, but the certainty of barbeques with you is added.
Rule Britannia is meant to be sung with pride. You turn it into a most noisome collection of moans.
The same is true for all music.
You have never, ever appreciated any other human being around you.
Because of these stated things, I, the undersigned, do hand-deliver this to you. I do ordain this as my true thought and belief so I may proceed happier and safer. I may also proceed braver and freer that ever before. This was also declared for your growth and understanding. I am sure that you can see some of the effects of your behaviour. You have seen Emmet flee. You have seen the crestfallen look on Richard's face. You know the pain of rejection. This is your time to fix yourself. This is your time to improve, and in the process, climb up the 'social ladder'.
ELIZABETH WARDEN, on this day, Friday, the thirty-first of March, in the Year of Our Lord One thousand nine hundred ninety-five.