The Art of Conversation - Catherine Blyth [22]
Trade information (“So what brought you here?”)
Trade opinion (“Isn’t this music unusual?”)
Trade feeling (“Yup, I hate it.”)
Pose questions that circle the personal, noting whether the other prefers a sharp or gentle approach, and adapting accordingly. And although small talk aims to please, don’t make this too obvious. Unlike journalist Piers Morgan who, in an uncharacteristically beseeching mood, asked Diana, Princess of Wales, what it was like “being Diana”:
“Oh God, let’s face it, even I have had enough of Diana now—and I am Diana.”
Helpful of her to point that out.
It could have been worse: She could’ve said, “So . . .” This tends to rear up then gently die after the preliminary flurry when basic parameters are established (who you are, why you’re here). For such moments, we have ice breakers. The best are funny. Such as the occasion Diana’s alleged bête noire, Prince Philip, went to dine with the governor of Agadir, and the British delegation was alarmed to see no cutlery. Not that this was unusual in Morocco, but nor was the Prince known for his sensitivity to foreign ways. Yet into the couscous plunged his fingers. “Don’t you find,” he said, “eating with a knife and fork is like making love through an interpreter?”
➺ Rule nine: Build talk up to scale
Turn observations into discussion points by tagging on a question. For example, “It’s a beautiful evening, isn’t it?” or “I can hardly keep up, there are so many great American novelists/new restaurants/ ways to lose money these days, aren’t there?” The implied compliment to listeners is that you value their opinion.
More provocative opinions can be smuggled in, potential offense cushioned by the note of query. But watch your tone: Agreement-seeking can be discreet bullying. Or worse, in the case of the acrid yoga instructor who strode up to my friend, in the process of executing a perfectly humble down dog, and said: “Have you ever been to a yoga class before, because this is an advanced class, isn’t it?”
Just as hazarding a topic you’ve no passion for is unwise—without an opinion, it’s a dead end—so you should aim to raise a subject with a follow-up comment or question in mind. Had I prepared one for Jeremy Irons, I could have averted full-body blush. Had I been less self-conscious, I might have seen what we already had in common: the place. If only I’d asked him about the exhibition. If, if, if . . .
THE ALGEBRA OF A FOLLOW-UP: AN EXERCISE
This is a topic-creation scheme. Instead of dollops of heavy material, information should be drip-fed. Try combining these ingredients:
a. Situation—where you are; what people have been talking about
b. The other person/people
c. What you would like to know
Bald statements are hard to respond to (hence those fond of them seem pompous). Instead, fuse observations with questions that invite more than yes or no.
For example, at a welly-wanging contest held in Scotland by your pal Seamus:
A + B + C = “This is my first welly-wanging contest. You look pretty handy, Seamus. What is the best way to hurl a Wellington boot?”
A + (CB) = “These wellies are light but not very aerodynamic. How are yours?”
(AB) + (BC) = “Much as I love Seamus’s welly-wanging contest, rowing across the loch gets harder every year. Have you come far, Jeremy?”
(ABC) = “What film other than Welly-Wanging should I bet on winning an Oscar?”
➺ Rule ten: Be optimistic
Worried something isn’t worth saying? Heed the anonymous author of 1673’s Art of Complaisance:
The readiest way to become agreeable in any Conversation, is to banish all distrust, and to be confident that we are already so.
And what makes anything interesting? Well, how do you know a poem is a poem? Because it’s marooned in white. Two things make its words art: the mind that selected them, and readers’ faith that the choice was meaningful. And if you want to hold something up for consideration, it is already interesting: it interests you.
No idea why it attracts your attention? Mention it anyway; someone else might have a clue. With