The Art of Conversation - Catherine Blyth [20]
As anxiety prowls for evidence you’d be better off inside a large paper bag, nervousness ensures these fears come true, every time. Although such feelings are common with strangers, small talk is a correlate, not—as many small-talk haters assume—the cause. The true horror arises from self-consciousness: the feeling you’re on show, which paradoxically sabotages self-awareness, muffling your sense of the topic in hand, and, worse, your sensitivity to interlocutors.
But fear is merely dyspeptic imagination. Set it to work on thinking about the other person, remembering that he, if a stranger, is at an equal disadvantage, and embrace the opening courtesies, equivalent to those nosy things dogs do sniffing each other out—as an opportunity to express your feelings. Unless, that is, they resemble those of the man who crushed an old friend of mine. They were on a train, heading to an academic conference, sharing pleasantries and peanuts. Then, having inhaled the nuts, the other man picked up his book (almost certainly by Schopenhauer) and handed my friend the empty packet, saying:
“This is all our conversation is. Exchanging rubbish.”
THE PRINCIPLES
All relationships serve self-interest—after all, the laughs and tears we share with friends are fringe benefits. Cynical? Hardly. This is what makes them meaningful. Similarly, conversation thrives if it is purposeful, so let artful small talk do the reconnaissance, delineating common territory and seeking a mutually agreeable direction in which to amble. Very often its point is no fancier than to find the point in talking to someone.
Not always easy. But as anyone fond of pubs or beauty parlors knows, chat need say little to be pleasant. Whatever the context, old friends or new, it is best if speakers respect five principles:
Put others at ease
Put yourself at ease
Weave in all parties
Establish shared interests
Actively pursue your own
These combine into the following strategy:
➺ Rule five: Approach small talk like a treasure hunt
Tools are:
Elicitors: open questions—e.g., “Have you come far?” (a House of Windsor special)
Neutral topics
Observations on your environment
Ice breakers: humorous questions and remarks
Suggestions
Enthusiasm
The most productive spirit is pioneering: sincere, curious, light, humorous. Radiate pleasure and non-Schopenhauer fans usually take it personally, opening like flowers in the sun. The only trouble with enthusiasm, as the wrung-out wife of an ebullient acquaintance confided, is you can drown in it. So if in doubt, leave it out.
➺ Rule six: Start in neutral
Ladies and gentlemen once kept commonplace books, magpie hoards containing scraps of literature, historical facts, bon mots—any bauble that snagged the owner’s fancy—that were consulted and memorized before engagements, lest opportunity arose to flourish them and impress the company.
Dare you disturb the universe with a tag from Ovid? Alas, today it’s dangerous to presume shared knowledge or values, let alone puff your plumage. Better to think, as you approach that door, what is in the news, fashion, cultural affairs—whatever piques you. Try to combine elements in surprising ways. (“I was thinking of entering this outfit for the Eurovision Song Contest”; “I see you’re wearing Manchester United’s colors.”) Ideally frame them to cascade clues about the other person. I wouldn’t dream of suggesting you copy actress Imogen Stubbs and invent something....
The Time I Died, I think we called it—and tested it out at a pretentious party. The collective response? “Oh, God, yes, so moving. I loved that book.”
No, no, much nicer to mine uncontroversial territory. Keep it light: an observation, question, a thread to weave to something new. And revelations are out. I’ve never forgotten my first goring by an ex-boyfriend’s horn-hided ex-belle: