The Art of Conversation

speed

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A very interesting article about the importance, and decline, of conversation.

Repartee and real social intercourse are said to be dying, but in the age of the mobile and blog they have taken on new forms

Simon Jenkins
Friday August 11, 2006
The Guardian

What makes a great conversationalist? When a man was so described to me (by a woman) I asked wherein lay his success? On what topics did he so shine as to merit her accolade? She could not remember. Indeed she could recall only three words he ever uttered. They were: "Really? How interesting."

We are said to be losing the art of conversation. It is dying in a hell's kitchen of mobile phones, BlackBerrys, iPods, emails, soundbites, chatshows and drinks parties. There it joins other civilities regularly pronounced dead, such as well-mannered teenagers, the tomato and the novel. Nowadays no one converses. People shout and text.

So proclaims the social historian Stephen Miller in his new study Conversation: A History of a Declining Art. If he is right we are heading back from the heights of stimulating human intercourse to EM Forster's stone-age story-teller, whose "gaping audience of shockheads was kept awake only by suspense". If he lost their attention they killed him as useless. Scheherazade had the same problem. Storytelling, however good, is only half of conversation.

Miller starts with Socrates, Plato and Cicero, who first noted that free conversation, because it is transient and uncensorable, is the essence of free speech. It was always a threat to authoritarianism. Hence its fascination for the Enlightenment. To Montaigne it was intellectual callisthenics, the "fruitful and natural exercise of the mind" as opposed to the "languid, feeble motion" of reading. To Swift, Johnson, Hume and the 18th-century essayists, conversation was the social lubricant of the club and the coffee house. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu and Mrs Thrale showed how its unpredictable informality enabled women to outshine men in society. Conversation became a euphemism for sex.

Historians of culture saw this golden age as destroyed by intrusive innovation. Cheap books and newspapers discouraged talk. Victorian observers deplored the fact that better home lighting led people to read instead of speak. As a result De Tocqueville ascribed to the English "a strange unsociability, reserved and taciturn". By the 20th century Orwell was convinced that radio and other "solitary mechanical amusements" spelled the death of conversation. By the time of Virginia Woolf it was surrounded by convention. She declared that a brilliant remark at tea should be treated as "an accident that one ignored, like a fit of sneezing, or some catastrophe with a muffin". To Rebecca West conversation was an illusion, "a noise of intersecting monologues".

So Miller is not the first to note a decline in this most cerebral of delights. He sees a threat to conversation in every cultural trend, from political correctness declaring words and subjects taboo to the counterculture of the 60s and its opposing obsession with authenticity, egotism and "letting it all hang out". Does Eminem do conversation, asks Miller? It is lost amid the cacophony of anger, attitude, rap and satire. When the American vice-president, Dick Cheney, was challenged by a colleague to conversational repartee on the floor of the Senate, he was at a loss. In that great deliberative chamber, echoing with the ghosts of rhetoric and hard by the mighty Library of Congress, this Jupiter could only mutter, "Go fuck yourself!" It was, wrote the columnist Russell Baker, "total language failure".

Because conversation requires a small mental effort, technology has produced what Miller calls "conversation avoidance devices". Talking to strangers is considered weird, so the wise traveller has an iPod or mobile phone permanently clamped to the ear. Interactive games replace human contact with the virtual sort, as texting and emailing replace old-fashioned telephoning. While this may revive the once-doomed letter, emails and their "flares" (insulting words un-nuanced because they are not spoken) are a poor substitute for talk. The Washington Post reported a family of six whose house contained, among other gadgets, nine televisions, six computers, six mobile phones, three stereos and two DVD players. Its members rarely met, wolfing down their food to return to their electronic cocoons. To them conversation was something broadcast, an ersatz exchange of one-liners on a chatshow, "the sound of two egos talking".

In such a world people congregate not to converse but to project themselves. At meetings, in pubs or drinks parties, participants are in monologue mode, awaiting their turn to perform. There is time only for a clever quip before one is interrupted. This is no workout in Montaigne's mental gymnasium, let alone what the philosopher Michael Oakeshott called an "unrehearsed intellectual adventure". Even the new fad for reading groups and "conversaziones" (significantly a foreign word) implies that conversation is so disconcerting as to require the formality of a venue and an agenda. We are all victims of conversation fright.

Miller is not a total pessimist. He quotes Hume, that "the propensity to company and society is strong in all rational creatures". I think he grossly underrates Hume's insight. Who would have predicted a quarter century ago that the passive act of watching television would be supplanted by the more active one of electronic interchange. We seem to be in perpetual conversation. The zombie army wandering London's streets mouthing into space is conversing. The phone is no longer what it was to my parents, the means for some rushed emergency message. It is conversation. And what is a blog but a digital coffee house, lacking only respect for Swift's maxim that nothing kills conversation like a bore?

The 18th century may have been the high point of this art. But succeeding generations have shown no diminution in the human intimacy that is the essence of good talk. Young people congregating in the park or outside a pub always seem to me to be in animated discourse. The dinner party, the long walk, the weekend, the holiday still demand conversational skills. The booming restaurant is a stage-set for discourse as well as gastronomy (though I once asked Terence Conran why his restaurants were so noisy and he said it was because young people were nervous of talking).

The rules of conversational etiquette have not changed over the centuries. Since Cicero experts have advised never to converse with too many because, as Swift said, "in much company, few listen". They tell us to be brief to avert tedium and interruption; avoid anecdote; refer to others but not oneself; be eager to listen and ready to change one's mind; above all respect rules of politeness. When Dr Johnson found himself at dinner with his hated foe Wilkes, his regard for his host required him to tame his anger and talk, and he eventually quite enjoyed the discourse. This discipline, the subjugation of anger to social ritual, is key to the exhilarating, serendipitous, controlled anarchy that is good conversation.

Concluding his history of western civilisation, Kenneth Clark searched for its essence and found it in this quality of courtesy. He called it "the ritual by which we avoid hurting each other's feelings by satisfying our own egos". Throughout history courtesy had granted human beings the confidence to interact creatively and thus scale the ladder of genius. Each generation rightly regards this ritual as sacred, and fears for its future. For the present it seems in good health.

simon.jenkins@guardian.co.uk
 
I'd also like to add as a followup, that it is hypothesized--no directly claimed by no less than Voltaire, Hume, Smith (the list goes on)--that the conversations in coffeehouses and salons of europe and the british isles, were the sole inspiration of much political, social, and even scientific ideas that still shape the world today.
 
To Montaigne it was intellectual callisthenics, the "fruitful and natural exercise of the mind" as opposed to the "languid, feeble motion" of reading.

I think this is an interesting point and goes a long way towards explaining the modern distaste for intelligent conversation. Conversation, more than reading a book or passively engaging any other medium, forces you to continuously react to others' critiques of your ideas. Having largely lost religion, modern Westerners (mostly) lack any kind of value system beyond having internalized certain norms and taboos, and lacking any kind of strong internal compass as such, are motivated primarily by the fear and insecurity which is created by that void. I've found that, while many of my peers crave the kind of forced reexamination of one's own priorities that good conversation often results in, many more seem to find it so painful that they not only actively avoid it, but actually castigate it. Of course you can observe this even in the way certain characters react to Socrates in the Republic.

I think the author is way too optimistic at the end of the article. In Chicago (I would imagine that this is true of other major cities in the US), the major newspapers, while perhaps not total fonts of wisdom to begin with, have been replaced with these big, shiny, 30 page papers (the most popular one here is called RedEye) which are devoted primarily to coverage of sports, celebrities, weekend hotspots, and similar trivialities. If you take a ride on the public transportation during the morning rush hour, you'll see the majority of people either reading this vapid magazine, listening to techno on their Ipods, or both. If this is the input people are receiving, the output can't possibly be anything worth half a fuck, regardless of the prominence of instant messaging and cell phones. Observing all this, you can't help but get the sense that these people fear reality, which is probably a symptom of democracy generally.
 
speed said:
I'd also like to add as a followup, that it is hypothesized--no directly claimed by no less than Voltaire, Hume, Smith (the list goes on)--that the conversations in coffeehouses and salons of europe and the british isles, were the sole inspiration of much political, social, and even scientific ideas that still shape the world today.

These conversations were more like structured debates, and what made them exceptional was their exclusivity. Joe Idiot couldn't walk in and start spouting off his sacred fucking opinion. One had to be smart. As always, elitism triumphs over mass revolt where quality is concerned.
 
I originally thought (when I read this earlier) that this article was one-dimensional. I considered it to be entirely based on some nostalgic need for intellectuals to lament on the fall of our former glories and I still feel the same, re-reading it now.

It's interesting, doubtlessly and I am convinced it holds some truth but it seems very flat, dishonest and perhaps it even misses the point. Every pseudo-intellectual I know has bitched and moaned about TV, the media and corporations ruining our lives, and this just seems like a facet of that. Conversation is not dead, and I could care less about Joe Moron never talking to his kids, and watching TV all damn day. My two cents :)
 
speed said:
I'd also like to add as a followup, that it is hypothesized--no directly claimed by no less than Voltaire, Hume, Smith (the list goes on)--that the conversations in coffeehouses and salons of europe and the british isles, were the sole inspiration of much political, social, and even scientific ideas that still shape the world today.


Yes. 'This calls for immediate discussion!'

immediat.jpg


:heh:
 
derek said:
I originally thought (when I read this earlier) that this article was one-dimensional. I considered it to be entirely based on some nostalgic need for intellectuals to lament on the fall of our former glories and I still feel the same, re-reading it now.

It's interesting, doubtlessly and I am convinced it holds some truth but it seems very flat, dishonest and perhaps it even misses the point. Every pseudo-intellectual I know has bitched and moaned about TV, the media and corporations ruining our lives, and this just seems like a facet of that. Conversation is not dead, and I could care less about Joe Moron never talking to his kids, and watching TV all damn day. My two cents :)

Yes, I agree with your analysis, but, it is well-written and researched ,and I think by the end, he comes to your conclusion that conversation is not dead, but it must be preserved. And, it brings up some very interesting discussion--especially as blogs and cell-phones become the new instruments of human interaction and conversation.
 
speed said:
Yes, I agree with your analysis, but, it is well-written and researched ,and I think by the end, he comes to your conclusion that conversation is not dead, but it must be preserved. And, it brings up some very interesting discussion--especially as blogs and cell-phones become the new instruments of human interaction and conversation.

Agreed, I do enjoy the topic. How human interaction has changed and how it affects us is a remarkable area for study.

Furthermore it highlights the ability for things we have created to affect us. For example, good housing, relative safety and comfortable living will affect our future evolution and that dynamic - to me, at least - is quite interesting.
 
Music has gravitated toward crowd entertainment and social concerns/issues. Both of these being popular, we now have what mostly amounts to pop culture rather than music. The days are long gone when villagers would gather for a festival where local musicians would take up instruments and play not for profit, but for love of their own. Instead of traditional culture, we now have pop culture. :puke:

I think in some ways oral discourse has followed suit. Mass media has become more reliable than a trusted neighbor's wisdom. Yes, trustworthy neighbors and word of mouth were commonplace once upon a time.
 
Another sad thing about modern life is that there are many old people who live alone and they never have a conversation with anyone. They are afraid of their neighbours and no one notices even when they die in some cases.

In the soap operas on TV, everyone's nose is in everyone else's business and they all know what their neighbours are up to, regualarly just walking in unannounced. That would be hellish if it was the way it is in the real world, but actually things have gone very far in the opposite direction. People even in small towns and villages often won't make eye contact, let alone acknowledge eachother, which is a turn for the worse. There is a level of distrust which didn't exist a generation or two ago. People watch these soap operas and that replaces the conversation that they would normally have been having in the past. Some become so intimately involved with the fictional characters that it feels like reality to them.
 
Norsemaiden said:
Another sad thing about modern life is that there are many old people who live alone and they never have a conversation with anyone. They are afraid of their neighbours and no one notices even when they die in some cases.

In the soap operas on TV, everyone's nose is in everyone else's business and they all know what their neighbours are up to, regualarly just walking in unannounced. That would be hellish if it was the way it is in the real world, but actually things have gone very far in the opposite direction. People even in small towns and villages often won't make eye contact, let alone acknowledge eachother, which is a turn for the worse. There is a level of distrust which didn't exist a generation or two ago. People watch these soap operas and that replaces the conversation that they would normally have been having in the past. Some become so intimately involved with the fictional characters that it feels like reality to them.
Once again, NorseMaiden exhibits her keen awareness. Very astute.
 
Because conversation requires a small mental effort, technology has produced what Miller calls "conversation avoidance devices". Talking to strangers is considered weird, so the wise traveller has an iPod or mobile phone permanently clamped to the ear. Interactive games replace human contact with the virtual sort, as texting and emailing replace old-fashioned telephoning. While this may revive the once-doomed letter, emails and their "flares" (insulting words un-nuanced because they are not spoken) are a poor substitute for talk. The Washington Post reported a family of six whose house contained, among other gadgets, nine televisions, six computers, six mobile phones, three stereos and two DVD players. Its members rarely met, wolfing down their food to return to their electronic cocoons. To them conversation was something broadcast, an ersatz exchange of one-liners on a chatshow, "the sound of two egos talking".

^ That part made me think of a quote from Gibson which he prophetically wrote around 1984(?). In Neuromancer he said "We have sealed ourselves away behind our money, growing inward, generating a seamless universe of self".

Humans now have the ability to wall themselves in with distracting plastic things, thus many tend to avoid actual activities. I think this probably somewhat accounts for problems like obesity and drug dependence--many get bored of their empty lives and don't know why. Most mainstream sources won't tell you to ditch the TV or video games and get your ass out to do something constructive when there's so much money to be made off of dumb fat people.

Also on the personal level I've noticed that at my university (where "smart" kids allegedly go) 99% of them converse exclusively about stupid shit like family guy episodes, how high they got the other night, or which pairs of their friends are fucking each other this week. It gets tiring quickly to hear these sorts of things over and over again. I feel like I'm surrounded by children that can rarely discuss anything with substance. So I guess in that sense I agree with the orignal article. People may be conversing less and when they do, it's about narrow topics like money and entertainment.
 
Quote:
Also on the personal level I've noticed that at my university (where "smart" kids allegedly go) 99% of them converse exclusively about stupid shit like family guy episodes, how high they got the other night, or which pairs of their friends are fucking each other this week. It gets tiring quickly to hear these sorts of things over and over again. I feel like I'm surrounded by children that can rarely discuss anything with substance. So I guess in that sense I agree with the orignal article. People may be conversing less and when they do, it's about narrow topics like money and entertainment.[/QUOTE]



Evidently, this affliction doesn't improve dramatically with time either. My career in operations management has afforded me exposure to a wide range of professionals who almost invariably are capable of no more intellectually stimulating conversation than your college peers. When I was younger and more naive, I thought perhaps it was a desire to avoid 'controversial' discussion and the like with associates, clients, etc. If only it were that well thought out!
I am continually regaled with tales of sports, reality TV, celebrity shenanagans, familial woes and similarly banal twaddle. Attempts to introduce something more substantive into conversation are generally met with blank stares or half-hearted responses. I don't fancy myself some sort of ponderous intellectual who cannot laugh or engage in idle banter here and there - but meaningful conversation is almost impossible to come by in the professional world. I know these aren't stupid people - they just seem to lack any desire to engage in a discussion that requires...well, thought.
Conversation with friends and family is generally no better. I suppose that's why I'm here!!
 
Back in my highschool days, I had some good friends who would talk about such things, but they went off to university. The only saving factor was the philosophy class I took. At least I found other people intersted in conversations. I even would talk with the Professor on break because I was so interested, and yet besides a few friends, he was the only person in that class worth a decent conversation on any type of philosophical issue.