Although for some people Hamlet’s phrase is not a question but an invitation for them to answer.
‘Art thou still talking, Horatio?’
This post is about the art of conversation. Dialogue rather than monologue. Both these words are ancient, stemming from the Greek and even earlier to proto-Indo-European. Dialogue means a conversation between two or more people; monologue means speaking alone or to oneself. Some people don’t appear to know the difference.
Some are highly skilled at the art of conversation while others are lamentable. If I asked the question posed in the title, those in the skilled group would most likely talk about it for a while and then listen to what others have to say. The people in the lamentable group would think it an invitation to share their thoughts, open their mouths and talk. And talk – and talk.
I’ve always been intrigued by this difference in how people talk, sometimes I think I’m obsessed by it. And lately, to my chagrin, I have been talking about the subject more than I intended. And now look – I’m writing about it. To keep the people who feature in this post anonymous, I shall adopt the old-fashioned practice of identifying people by their initial letter only.
I’ve always known people who talk a lot. This is not surprising really as my teacher colleagues were employed to speak. One of my bosses, N__, was one of the greatest raconteurs I have ever met. I well remember him keeping my wife Janine and I spellbound while he related what a plumber had told him about plumbing. I commented on how fascinating his account was and he was bemused. He didn’t think he had been at all interesting. I wonder if the plumber had been.
Others were the opposite. For example, when Janine’s sister H__ took us to see Hadrian’s Wall, Janine asked me anxiously if I really wanted to sit beside H__. I soon realised why.
H__ talked non-stop. I swear I never saw her draw breath. She even described the road we were driving on, which I could see right in front of my nose! H__ did not point out the interesting things we were passing. Oh no. The conversation went like this.
H: There’s a bend up ahead.
M: I can see.
H: I’m going to slow down.
M: Good idea.
H: I’m slowing down to twenty miles an hour now and going from fourth gear into third.
M: (No comment)
H: I’m in third gear now.
M: I know.
H: The road gets steep up ahead.
M: I can see –
H: So when we’re round the bend, I’m going to increase the speed, move to fourth gear until we reach the bottom of the hill and then go back into third to give me the power to reach the top.
M: (opening the car door in order to leap out.) Help me somebody!
Yesterday, I spent a pleasant time with my good friend M__. It started with coffee and after an hour and a half, we decided to eat a spot of lunch and continue our conversation. This lasted a further two and a half hours. Believe me, this is not out of the ordinary for us. The conversation was vibrant, thought-provoking and fun. A long and memorable lunch. We were having a dialogue and a fascinating one.
We talked about language, teaching, films, books and – to return to the subject of this post – the fact that some people are good conversationalists and others are less so. Lately, as I live on my own, I worry that I also may be losing my conversational skills although I chunter to my late wife all the time. I’m undecided whether four-hour chats answer my worries one way or the other.
Anyway, undeterred, we continued the conversation today. Why is it that some people are skilled at the art of conversation while others are not?
M__ wondered if we just allow more latitude to our friends. Maybe so, I agreed. I would, however, be wary of allowing a donkey with two hind legs to spend time with some people I know.
Might it be the topic of conversation? This is more plausible. We can all get what my mum used to call bees in our bonnets. And although I really enjoy talking about language, the bee in my bonnet, I know that many would think it beyond boring. Not me, give me more of it. Yet even the most enthusiastic talk about football or jazz will make me despair.
After a great deal of thought, I am coming to believe that what makes someone skilled at the art of the conversation is nothing to do with actual talking. Instead, it is whether they are looking at the person they are speaking with.
Those who are poor conversationalists don’t necessarily lack the skills of telling a story, staying on track or keeping to the point. What they lack is the ability to read the other person. They do not notice the growing blankness of the face, the nodding of the eyelids, the stifled yawns. They pay no attention when the other person tries to change the subject. They are not daunted when the desperate soul walks away, they follow them, still talking. They might notice if their victim put on pyjamas and fetched a hot water bottle but I wouldn’t bank on it.
‘Are you paying attention to me, Yoric?’
So. finally here’s some words I think are worth remembering. They are alleged to have been said by Epictetus, a Greek philosopher who spent his youth as Nero’s slave before gaining freedom at the emperor’s death. ‘We have two ears and one mouth so that we can listen twice as much as we speak.’
I would add to that they we also have two eyes to keep watch that we are not making our listeners comatose.