It always amuses me when a cultured and accomplished English person is interviewed by the American press. Inevitably, the writer marvels at the person's self-effacing remarks. "So-and-so is incredibly modest, despite having written three world-famous plays and won the Man Booker Prize for his most recent novel," the writer burbles. "He claims it was all beginner's luck."
In fact, self-deprecation is an English trait. You are never supposed to brag about your accomplishments, and when they are mentioned, you must pretend that, really, anyone could have done the same thing.
Americans of a certain age may remember that we also were schooled to act like this. It was considered rude to "put yourself forward." Let your deeds speak for themselves, we were told. It is not necessary to remind people of your achievements.
But in today's more hard-edged social realm, the self-deprecator is liable to be taken at her word. If you smile and explain that you were able to deliver a certain lecture because you were the conference organizer's "thirty-ninth choice," your listener will frown. Obviously, you are a hopeless failure, chosen out of sheer desperation. Never mind the improbability of having thirty-eight other potential speakers turn this person down.
Surely no one likes a braggart. But the sensibility attuned to the nuance of self-deprecation appears to be as antiquated as a Henry James heroine. It seems that you now need to state your qualifications in all-caps bold, or risk being entirely misunderstood.
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