Tied in Knots : NONFICTION : MISS MANNERS ON (PAINFULLY PROPER) WEDDINGS,<i> By Judith Martin (Crown: $14; 208 pp.)</i>

Mating season is here, and far less carnage will be reported if all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed lovers eager to couple get their kid-gloved mitts on Judith Martin’s new book before innocently venturing out of the woods and down the aisle. “Miss Manners on (Painfully Proper) Weddings” is said to be written for the friends and family of the bride, but I, for one, would not be staring into the headlights of an oncoming divorce had I been saved from myself by such sane and fearless guidance before darting into marriage last season. Let’s face it, as the bride it’s My Way, even if that means the highway.

Once I had made the decision to finally take the plunge, I dared not look back. Signs of my intended’s less-than-romantic expectations were everywhere, but stopping to acknowledge them, I thought, was not an option. Not so, says Miss Manners. “There is ample opportunity to discover before marriage whether someone is unselfish enough to take an interest in one’s own happiness. It should therefore set off a warning when either one says (or hears) ‘Ever since I was small I wanted’ or ‘This’ll be a good chance to’ or ‘After all, we’re the people getting married, so. . . .’ ” Following her advice may at times be painful, just as learning to say “no” is not always such an easy trick. Giving up control, taking appropriate responsibility and practicing a bit of humility are Miss Manners’ directions for a proper wedding and, surprise, a successful marriage.

Funny things happen to women with Pre-Marriage Syndrome. “Efforts to produce the Perfect Wedding have turned many a perfectly lovely bride into a perfect nuisance to her family, friends and fiance,” says Miss Manners. Being “The Bride” is not something you can professionally train for, despite the bridal industry’s valiant efforts to persuade us otherwise. In my case I believed maturity (or at least age) would compensate for lack of expertise. Having played the gamut of supporting roles in other people’s weddings, I felt like a seasoned veteran prior to planning what Miss Manners duly notes as Terrible Idea I: The wedding as “My Day.”

Forget the superhuman support of a generous father, gentle mother and gracious maid of honor carrying out commando details. I began to wear thin, even on myself, after the first stab at the budget, the second fitting at the dressmaker and the third go-round with the guest list. I became a first-class bore when it finally hit me that RSVP could not be decoded by my guests without a follow-up phone call. I was reduced to tears when the groom examined my seating chart and proclaimed it a disaster because there were friends of his who would not be able to endure the evening unless they were placed next to some pretty young thing. Such prickly situations simply delight the wickedly funny Miss Manners. I suspect that the downright unacceptable sends her into peals of hand-clapping, foot-stomping glee.

Little did I know when signing up for this unfortunate marriage that I was to land in the thick of Miss Manners’ Terrible Idea II: The wedding as fund-raiser. I was caught so off-guard when one of my prospective sisters-in-law berated me for not registering for gifts in a timely fashion, I reeled from the error of my grand faux pas. Had I not considered the shopping convenience it was my duty to extend to the guests? Did I want a house full of other people’s taste? How did I expect to get anything if I did not specifically ask for it? Call me crazy, but this activity was at the bottom of my priority list. Many of my guests, mostly family, were traveling great distances at great personal expense, and I thought their presence was the present. For those guests that wanted to give me gifts, how lovely. Anything my friends or family would give me would be something I would treasure because it came from them.

Well, I had that all wrong. The groom explained to me that when registering for the silver flatware, I should ask the shop to quote the price including engraved monogramming so that the cost would be passed onto the gift-giver instead of us grown-up--by most standards--but nonetheless newly married--people. Hello? Where was Miss Manners to raise the red flag and tell me to bolt while the getting was good? If only she had worked a little harder and faster to get this book of revelations out a year ago.

I do confess, I bought right into Miss Manners’ Terrible Idea III: The wedding as show business. The fact is, I had never had occasion to put together a ceremony followed by a sit-down dinner dance for 125 people with myself and some poor slob in a monkey suit as the featured attraction. There is a reason, and it is a blessing. Had I had more time, energy and know-how, I might have worked in the color-coordinated bridesmaids and the gilt-edged program listing all the players, but it was all I could do to come up with priest, choir, music, flowers, reception, menu, place-cards and band. And it was more than enough, more than I could have dreamed of. Which is why I would do it all over again given the chance--and a little help from Miss Manners.

So why do we put ourselves through this primitive ordeal? Why not just exchange vows over coffee one morning in the kitchen and call it a day? Because there is nothing quite so sacred as a wedding. Your world stands joyfully still. Surrounded by those you love, you look into the eyes of the man you adore with all the hope this mysterious ritual promises and your soul soars with gratitude for everything that has brought you to such a defining moment. This, Miss Manners will tell you, is why we bother.