The Art of Conversation - Catherine Blyth [39]
IN GOD/STATE/KING WE TRUST?
The forces that shape us are sometimes fascinating, sometimes dull, and always divisive. Formerly, such topics were forbidden from mixed company, but this stricture is at an end. However, if you want to curdle a conversation, toss in a remark about your Undear Leader. You’ll soon learn who is a political animal, and who doesn’t give a monkey’s.
As with current affairs, discussing creeds, whether social, political, or theological, can coagulate conversation, since it reminds unbelievers how little dust our little lives, for all their busyness, actually raise. Worse, many of those who rise on hind legs to such topics are ranters and ravers, who talk as if atop invisible podiums.
Take this scene in Katherine Mansfield’s story “Germans at Meat.” The other hotel guests are agog that the narrator might not want a baby (in fact she is ill):
“Germany,” boomed the Traveller, biting round a potato which he had speared with his knife, “is the home of the Family.”
Followed an appreciative silence.
Minds worn shiny by prejudice offer few conversational foot-holds for those who don’t mirror their opinions. So before you ask, ask yourself: Do you care about the answer? Equally, do you mind too little? If, like pioneering psychologist William James, you regard religious belief as a vehicle to convey us through choppy existence, to prick another person’s convictions is to tinker with the engine of meaning in his life. Equally, to press your own on him is in effect to demand that he show you his, since conversation is a trading game. Who would do either?
Someone itching for an argument is who. Thin-skinned nineteenth-century painter Benjamin Robert Haydon, a committed Christian, griped about a dinner party:
Shelley [the Romantic poet] opened the conversation by saying in a most feminine and gentle voice, “As to that detestable religion, the Christian . . .” I looked astounded, but casting a glance round the table easily saw by [Leigh] Hunt’s expression of ecstasy and the women’s simper, I was to be set . . . vi et armis.
Admit it: Baiting is fun.
Risk: Depression; tedium; argument; revelation of dubious beliefs
Opportunity: Tranquilize bores; wind someone up; get down with a teenager
Scenario: Drinking holes; rallies; temples; academic gatherings; golf course; after Christmas lunch
MONEY?
If two-thirds of the average conversation consists of window-shopping one another’s lives, naturally the price tag arises. Nonetheless, traditionally money talk is taboo.
Food writer and successful businesswoman Prue Leith recalled:
In my family, you never discussed food, money and sex. Only complete vulgarians discussed them. I think that’s absolute nonsense. Food, money and sex are all great pleasures in life.
Of course money is fun. If you have it. If not, it may be a talking point—but a pleasure? And advertising wealth exposes insecurity. Take note, self-declared tycoon Peter Jones:
If there has been resentment about my success it’s gone unnoticed, because I simply wouldn’t care. I am positive there are people out there who are jealous.
Er. He is positive. Therefore, he cares.
If money talks to you, make no mistake: Others’ envy funds the pleasure. Be subtle, as a 1587 conduct book advised nouveaux riches brides:
Guide your guests around the house and in particular show them some of your possessions, either new or beautiful, but in such a way that it will be received as a sign of your politeness and domesticity . . . as if showing them your heart.
But after your latest acquisition’s price has been tagged, really, what more to say? Despite strong recent growth, this conversational weed shouldn’t be mistaken for a fecund topic.
Risk: Unpopularity; crassness; mistaking price for worth; silence; “So what?”
Opportunity: Funny, perhaps, as ABBA suggested, in a rich man’s world . . .
Scenario: Office; accountant; estate agent; bank; marital bed; divorce lawyer
HERE COMES TROUBLE?
“How are you?” To which the reply is: “Fine. You?”
Any alternative should be broached with caution.