Redeeming the Tongue

T. M. Moore

Conversation: A History of a Declining Art, by Stephen Miller (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2006), 368 pages. ISBN 0300110308

Anyone who has ever led a discussion group knows how difficult it can be to get people to engage in conversation. Even when the focus is clear—as in a book group or Bible study—and materials have been handed out in advance, the discussion leader can feel like a dentist working without anesthetic as he yanks and tugs to pull out of the mouths of his participants some contribution for the group’s betterment.

Whereas the Scriptures mightily prize the power of the spoken word, few of the followers of Christ seem to care much about mastering those conversational techniques that could enable them to employ the gift of the tongue to edify, enlighten, delight, direct, challenge, and entertain one another. Our conversation is lacking. And in this, as Stephen Miller points out, we are but a reflection of the larger society of which we are a part.

Stephen Miller is on a quest to renew conversation, as in the glory days of Boswell’s and Johnson’s London. He has read practically everything ever written on the subject and participates in a number of projects and activities designed to promote good conversation. Yet to his great disappointment the art of conversation is foundering on the rocks of technological trivia amid the shallow shoals of the distracted Western soul.

Conversation: A History of a Declining Art chronicles the origins, heyday, and slow decline of polite conversation as an art form. Beginning with Job’s exchanges with his interlocutors, working up through Socrates and the Greeks, and dwelling the longest—and with the most evident satisfaction—on the coffee-house scene in eighteenth-century London, Miller provides a most useful and enjoyable overview of the development of conversation as a social convention. From the end of the eighteenth century, however, the art of conversation began a long, slow decline, until today it is virtually impossible to find anyone who takes it seriously or understands and practices its protocols.

By conversation Miller means polite discussions around a wide range of issues, involving attentive listening, exchange of ideas, good-natured ribbing (“raillery”), and thoughtful speaking in a rambling, purposeless activity routinely engaged in by friends. Such conversation brings many benefits. It exercises the mind in new and exciting directions, promotes friendship and consideration among equals, creates an ambience that nurtures mutual respect and enrichment, and equips us, through the casual but earnest exercise of minds and tongues, to engage more purposefully in the larger issues of public policy and religious faith. The decline of conversation as an avocation or diversion, on the order of, say, going to a movie or taking in a concert with another couple, is a most regrettable situation, according to Miller.

Happily it’s not too late to redeem our tongues and renew this foundering art. From the sources and examples of the past, as well as his own experience, Miller outlines the requirements for enriching conversation. Conversation partners must resolve to be polite toward the others in the conversation, to listen carefully and respectfully, and not to spend all their time formulating their next response. Good humor is indispensable, both in being able to poke fun at another—without malice or double entendre—and to be poked fun at as well.

Good conversationalists must be broadly informed, able to talk a little about many different subjects without dwelling only on personal interests or areas of expertise. The goal of good conversation is participation and mutual enrichment, not dominance. To be a good conversationalist one must be intent on bringing pleasure to others, seeking to please and entertain them rather than to be the focus of discussion. Asking sincere questions to elicit the views of others is a most useful tool in good conversation. And it is necessary to keep one’s dark humors in check; in good conversation there is no place for resentment, anger, or defensiveness.

Of course, conversation as an art form takes time. In our day much of the time we might give to developing this delightful discipline is spent on distractions of one sort or another. Yet we seem eager for conversation, Miller points out, as the popularity of ersatz conversations by Oprah, Jerry Springer, Ellen DeGeneres, and the late-night and radio talk show hosts indicate—and as we play at having conversations through the various ubiquitous media of contemporary technology (cell phones, text-messaging, and e-mail). We seem to want conversation, but we allow too many obstacles to get in its way.

For one thing, most of our public speech today seems to focus on politics or religion, subjects that good conversationalists in the past assiduously avoided. They realized that these two subjects tended to bring out the absolutist in people, thus stifling respectful give-and-take and tending to promote anger, name-calling, and defensiveness. For another, we just don’t seem to be willing to take the time away from our other diversions to rediscover the enjoyment and enrichment conversation can provide. Then again, few of us are interested in doing the kind of wide reading and thoughtful reflection that are the wellspring of good conversation.

Miller’s book is an enjoyable read. He made me long to be back in the good old days of London coffee houses—so different from coffee shops today where patrons, via the ethereal, ephemeral connections of cell phone and wireless Internet, pay more attention to some faceless other than to face-to-face interaction with those standing right beside them.

I was reminded while reading his book of snippets and examples of some of my favorite conversationalists from past and present. I thought of the scholastics, who vetted weighty theological subjects in conversation with students with names like Bozo (OK, Boso, but it’s just too rich to pass up; did Anselm get it?); Luther driving Kate to permanent PMS with a house full of students each night; Bonhoeffer explaining that, in a community of equals, listening is a crucial ministry for all to learn; William F. Buckley, always leaning (physically) to the right as he charmingly engaged his guests; and Richard John Neuhaus, holding forth with Catholic and Evangelical friends around the dinner table after a hard day of deep but enjoyable theological discussion and disputation.

Cultivating the art of conversation would seem most useful for followers of Christ engaged in authentic relationships. Contrary to Miller’s suggestion, we can learn to be both interesting conversationalists and purposeful communicators in the same setting. The Apostle Paul gives us the perfect example of this, as we see him in Athens (Acts 17) taking himself to the marketplace to listen and discuss matters of religion and culture, and, in Rome (Acts 28) entertaining guests and in dialogue about the Gospel for many days.

Miller’s book is a little irritating at times, however, as when he piles on quotes from all kinds of writers, without providing any citations of his sources. The extensive bibliographical essay at the end of the book is helpful, but I like to see the documentation as I’m reading along. Further, I had some difficulty reconciling Miller’s devotion to conversation and the benefits it can afford at the same time he argues for it to be as spontaneous, purposeless, and undirected as possible. For the Christian, or any person who takes faith and life seriously, accepting such a guideline for conversation will be difficult.

Yet Miller encourages me in my own resolve to learn, and to help others learn, to be better conversationalists. My Friday men’s group, meeting downtown in the office of a CPA, is designed to teach men to think and talk about contemporary issues from a Biblical point of view, and to understand how to engage their friends and associates in conversation over such issues, using them as “launchers” (as Wilberforce, another great conversationalist, called them) so as to turn the focus of conversation to more transcendent matters.

People created in the image of God—the Logos, the Word—should be good conversationalists. We should work on redeeming our tongues no less than our time and talents for use in furthering the Kingdom of Christ and building his church, in addition to making our lives and those we know more interesting. Conversation: A History of a Declining Art can provide much encouragement and guidance to those interested in taking up the challenge of this enjoyable and useful art.  

T. M. Moore is Principal of The Fellowship of Ailbe and Dean of the Centurions program of The Wilberforce Forum. He is the author or editor of seventeen books. His essays, reviews, articles, and poetry have appeared in dozens of journals and periodicals. His regular columns appear at BreakPoint.org and www.myparuchia.com (where you can download samples of the handouts for his men’s group; go to the downloadable resources for men). He and his wife, Susie, make their home in Concord, Tennessee.

Reviews, Arts and Culture, Society, Tue 14 Nov 2006