bout de papier, Vol. 10, No. 1 (1993) — Winter 1993 // Hiver 1993, pp. 12–13
by Laurel Pardy
Among the duties of the Foreign Service spouse is the need to spend hours in casual conversation with absolute strangers, usually persons with whom one shares neither language nor custom. While cultural preferences exist, in all situations it is more significant whether the conversation is between men, women or both. This will determine whether one flirts, one chatters, one listens, one participates or one wanders off in search of another drink
The standard opening gambit is to go through the introductions again to clarify the “I’d like you to meet Mmmmm. Annnasnnn Gdulmmmmnnnnd,” muttered by the departing hostess. The sight of a fleeing hostess does not necessarily indicate that she is busy; rather that she has probably forgotten both your names.
This opening manoeuvre is discussed in a 1961 reference by Emily Post, The Blue Book to Social Usage, in a pithy passage omitted from more recent editions. The self-introduction suggested is: “Hello, I’m Betsy James. That is my husband sitting opposite you. We live in the country and raise show cattle and dahlias, but we come to town very often in the winter to hear music.” That would certainly inject a certain “je ne sais quoi” into the conversation.
A more contemporary version of this showstopper might be, “Hi. I’m Tammy Shalud-Borstal. That is my current partner, admiring the Pratt and drinking nonalcoholic punch. We share an apartment with five cats and a parrot and spend long winter evenings listening to music while lying on a synthetic fur rug in front of our smoke-free fireplace.”
Emily Post then goes on to advise on appropriate follow-up topics depending on the gender and age of one’s conversational partner. For example, for a woman talking to a man “a safe gambit is to ask advice … in fact, it is safe to ask his opinion on almost anything… politics, sports, the stock market, current fads…”. On the other hand, should a man be talking to a young woman he may “ask her what she thinks about life, love, work, amusement, romance, almost any question about the things people do or think or try for.”
Hmmm, some things never change.
Ms. Post suggests that an ideal conversation should be an “exchange of thought” and the perfect conversational partner should be “gay, beguiling and amusing” This person would delight by the very intonation, twist and “personality he puts into his quip, retort or observation”. Therefore, it matters not what he says for it all amuses. Perhaps tastes change, but this fellow ought to be “quipped” to death before dessert!
One of the greatest disservices that a person can do to humankind is to tell someone that they are “witty”. Inevitably, they will believe it. The results are disastrous. A monster of the one-line retort and the three-second put-down is born. If blood could run from the slashes imparted by a sharp wit, the gore on many a dinner table would cause even a battlefield surgeon to blanche. The cutting edge of a sharp wit tends to slice at random, delighting in its own cleverness and heedless of the wounds it inflicts. An individual who thinks he is a wit is usually one “f” short of the truth.
The flailing wit is only one of a cast of conversational characters. One encounters other categories such as the bore, the know-it-all, the wailer (closely related to the whiner), the lobbyist, the hobbyist, and the bulldozer.
The bore has eliminated the need to search for conversational topics by always using the same one and insisting on following it through from beginning to end in each and every conversation. The one advantage of conversation with a bore is that there is no need to participate. A bore can provide a few minutes for inner reflection or, if one is propped against a table or wall, a brief catnap.
The female equivalent to the male bore is the bulldozer. This is the woman who plunges into conversation like a charlady into the aftermath of a Saturday night bash. Wielding words like a broom and duster, she sweeps everything ahead of her, straightening and polishing, tidying and ordering the conversation to her satisfaction. No dusty ambiguity allowed. But when she mentions fundraising, run for the hills. She is a maestro.
Also beware of the person with a cause. Causes need to be kept under control lest they become obsessions.
Likewise the person who feels compelled to tell the truth. Some truths are held to be self-evident and should be left that way. People who feel themselves to be guided by a higher morality and constrained, therefore, to be bluntly frank are more often then not, frankly rude.
Another, less wilful, set of conversational cannonballs exists. These are the tactless talkers, the ceaseless chatterers, the tale tellers and the intimate intimaters. Conversation with them is like playing pool with a curved cue and with weighted balls. One never knows in which direction it will take off, caroming off the sidewalls and bashing about in a frenzy. It takes nerves of steel not to wind up behind the eight ball.
There are two tactics for dealing with these conversations. One can join the fast lane and pitch in with non sequiturs of one’s own, or simply relax and throw in the occasional “You don’t say”, “Do tell”, “Amazing”, and “Do go on”
At least once during a function there will occur the dreaded silence, that momentary hush when everyone runs out of conversation at the same time. It is this terror that drives the conversation locomotive, that makes the heart race and the mind go blank.
An alert hostess can override these conversational lulls by pitching her voice lightly higher and saying, “Have you tried the curry puffs, Edgar? James, pass the tray to Sarah, I do believe she has not tried one. The recipe is from my Aunt. You know she lived in India for a time. Has anyone seen the new production of “The Ladies of the Garden Club”?
One danger in diplomatic life is forgetting just who people are. It can be tricky extracting oneself from the morass of a muddled conversation after a case of mistaken identity. When in doubt, be still and listen. “Better to keep your mouth closed and be thought a fool, than to open it and have it confirmed.” Words to live by, Ms. Post.
A good conversationalist is like a good fisherman, casting out a variety of baits and trailing them through the water until they attract the victim.
Trolling does not work with silent types, however. These are people who have honed listening to an art form, characterized by unwavering eyeball confrontation and monosyllabic answers. This is usually a male trait and, in the days before smoking became taboo, offenders usually smoked a pipe. Never attempt a contest of silent wills with these people unless you are sure that you are immune to self-hypnosis. A vague wave across the room, a smile of apology and a quick escape is the best defense.
Conversation might be described as the art of participatory listening. Good conversationalists are “other centred” rather than “self centred”. They can pursue any gambit offered, are good listeners, well informed and actively participate in, but do not try to dominate, the ebb and flow of conversation.
’’’Stop’ … in conversation means not to rush recklessly forward; ’Look’ means pay attention to the expression of the person with whom you are talking; and ’Listen’ mean[s] exactly that” writes Ms. Post. Surviving an evening of relentless conversation is indeed like crossing a set of railroad tracks in uncharted territory. Heed the signals. Stay off the tracks. Watch for oncoming locomotives
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Originally published in bout de papier, Vol. 10, No. 1 (1993) — Winter 1993 // Hiver 1993, pp. 12–13. Read the rest of this issue →
