Eti­quette guides the unusu­al and iron­ic sur­vival tale that unfolds in this bal­lad, where two strand­ed gen­tle­men on a remote island let man­ners dic­tate their fate. Rather than work­ing togeth­er in the face of adver­si­ty, they let the absence of a for­mal intro­duc­tion keep them apart, high­light­ing how arbi­trary social rules can over­ride basic human instincts. Their divi­sion of the island becomes a metaphor for the self-imposed bar­ri­ers peo­ple build, even when com­mon sense urges oth­er­wise. GRAY and SOMERS, each set­tling in oppo­site regions of the island, suf­fer silent­ly, deny­ing them­selves com­fort for the sake of pro­pri­ety. This exag­ger­at­ed polite­ness, though comedic in its pre­sen­ta­tion, serves as a cri­tique of a rigid class-based soci­ety where sta­tus out­weighs sur­vival. The stub­born­ness of these two men rep­re­sents how deeply embed­ded cus­toms can blind indi­vid­u­als, mak­ing iso­la­tion prefer­able to break­ing the rules of decorum—even when those rules make no ratio­nal sense in their sit­u­a­tion.

The break­through arrives not through sur­vival instincts but from a casu­al name drop—ROBINSON—proving how inter­con­nect­ed­ness can instant­ly shift social dynam­ics. This shared acquain­tance acts as the social­ly sanc­tioned bridge they need­ed, and sud­den­ly, the wall between them dis­ap­pears. Their com­pan­ion­ship blos­soms, com­plete with poet­ry, music, and the mutu­al exchange of resources that pre­vi­ous­ly sat just out of reach. The absur­di­ty of their ear­li­er behav­ior is under­scored by the ease with which it is reversed once the cor­rect for­mal­i­ty is met. In a world stripped of all lux­u­ries, it takes just one com­mon link to make civil­i­ty pos­si­ble. The bal­lad pokes gen­tle fun at the human ten­den­cy to pri­or­i­tize form over func­tion, show­ing that iden­ti­ty, sta­tus, and even friend­ship are often shaped more by soci­etal expec­ta­tions than gen­uine con­nec­tion. Their island, once a sym­bol of divide, becomes a stage for cama­raderie, cre­ativ­i­ty, and the joy of shared hard­ship, briefly untaint­ed by the out­side world.

Just as their bond solid­i­fies, fate inter­venes again with the arrival of a British frigate, intro­duc­ing a moral com­pli­ca­tion that sets their rela­tion­ship back. Learn­ing that their beloved ROBINSON is aboard—not as a sailor or offi­cer, but as a trans­port­ed convict—sends shock­waves through their new­found alliance. Rather than ques­tion­ing the sys­tem that labeled ROBINSON a crim­i­nal, they turn on each oth­er, poi­soned by the stain of social asso­ci­a­tion. The cri­tique here is sharp: the moment soci­ety’s labels reen­ter their iso­lat­ed world, trust col­laps­es. Even after sur­viv­ing togeth­er, sav­ing each oth­er, and enjoy­ing deep com­pan­ion­ship, they let exter­nal judg­ment reshape their per­cep­tion. The les­son is clear—etiquette, when tak­en to extremes, can become a prison as real and iso­lat­ing as any island. Their quick retreat to soli­tude shows that once ingrained, these social norms are dif­fi­cult to shed, even in the face of log­ic, expe­ri­ence, or gen­uine human con­nec­tion.

This sto­ry, though humor­ous on the sur­face, unpacks a deep­er reflec­tion on how class and man­ners influ­ence rela­tion­ships. Eti­quette, meant to bring order and grace, often becomes a tool for exclu­sion and absur­di­ty when blind­ly fol­lowed. The ridicu­lous­ness of GRAY and SOMERS’s ini­tial refusal to speak con­trasts sharply with the rich­ness of their lat­er friend­ship, sug­gest­ing that the real trea­sures in life often lie just beyond out­dat­ed cus­toms. When sur­vival depends on coop­er­a­tion, cling­ing to arti­fi­cial rules leads only to dis­com­fort and divi­sion. And yet, the fear of soci­etal judgment—embodied in the con­vict ship and ROBINSON’s disgrace—holds enough weight to undo every­thing they’ve built. That pow­er reveals how iden­ti­ty is social­ly nego­ti­at­ed, not inher­ent­ly pos­sessed. In the end, the ballad’s com­e­dy points toward a trag­ic truth: peo­ple often allow the fear of improp­er con­duct to over­ride empa­thy, log­ic, and friend­ship.

For read­ers today, this poem offers more than satire—it encour­ages self-reflec­tion on the rules we fol­low with­out ques­tion. While eti­quette can pro­vide a frame­work for kind­ness and respect, it can also lim­it under­stand­ing and pre­vent gen­uine bonds from form­ing. The world has evolved, but many still mea­sure oth­ers by pedi­gree, rep­u­ta­tion, or asso­ci­a­tion, rather than char­ac­ter. “Eti­quette” clev­er­ly chal­lenges the read­er to con­sid­er which social norms are worth keep­ing and which should be cast aside, espe­cial­ly when they hin­der con­nec­tion or human­i­ty. The desert­ed island becomes a mir­ror reflect­ing our own soci­ety, where titles and acquain­tances too often deter­mine worth. By laugh­ing at GRAY and SOMERS, the read­er also con­fronts the absur­di­ties in their own world, mak­ing this bal­lad not just a humor­ous tale, but a sub­tle call for deep­er social aware­ness.