The art of small talk

SMALL TALK
It is no easy matter to talk well. A man may read many books, and have a tenacious memory, and a sound judgment, and no small portion of critical acumen. He may express his thoughts in elegant language; he may season his discourse with wit, and be a living lexicon, and a walking encyclopedia; and yet, after all, be but a dull every-day companion. All the world don't read books; and all who do read, do not care about them; but every body loves to talk. There is something very pleasant in hearing the sound of one's own voice; and when we are wearied with toil, or tired with thought, we love to chat, to set the tongue in motion, to relieve the sense of weariness.

A Manual of Politeness, comprising the principles of etiquette, and rules of behaviour in genteel society, for persons of both sexes. 1837, published by WM Marshall & Co, Philadelphia (via google books).

We all know those people among our circles who are natural raconteurs; the ones who can describe a trip to the supermarket in such a way that we feel disappointed we weren't there with them. Often they will regale people they have just met with such tales.

But small talk doesn't come easy to us all.

The Manual of Politeness goes on to offer the following observation:

The mistake is common, though not for that reason less a mistake, to imagine that it is the easiest matter in the world to talk about nothing, or every-day occurrences: it requires an active mind, an observant mind, and no small share of that invaluable, unpurchasable, and unlearnable quality, good humour, to say something on every thing to any body. It has been sometimes noticed, as a remarkable and amiable trait in the characters of some men, of very superior minds, that they have been able and willing to make themselves agreeable to children; and not unfrequently has it been observed of great monarchs, that they had something to say to every body.

And perhaps that is the key? The art of small talk lies in being comfortable talking to anyone at any time. But how do we learn this skill?

With two girls in my household, there is usually no end to the chatter, but I was interested to hear the Principal of my youngest daughter's school outline that the school has a 'method' for teaching the children to be confident in interacting with others, particularly adults. They must:

• look the person in the eye
• respond to the greeting, and if it included a question, answer it with more than a 'yes' or 'no', and most importantly,
• follow up with a question of their own.

So a conversation with a teacher in the morning may go along the lines of:

Teacher: Hello Jessica! Did you have a good weekend?

Jessica: I did Mrs Teacher, I went to stay at my grandparents.
What did you do on the weekend?

And there you go, it's Conversation 101 for six year olds. The Principal went on to say that after a while, the students aim to be the initiator of any interaction so that they get 'their' questions in first!

Listening to older students interacting with their parents, I suspect those lessons may need to be re-learned. One-word answers seem to be the go with many young teens, and I don't know if it is shyness or disinterest, but I find few who initiate a conversation with an adult they don't know well.

Perhaps it is a lack of a shared knowledge and interests?

The Manual of Politeness says, "Let but the topics of the day be known, the last novel, or picture, or public singer, and all the conversation may be anticipated," but when you have to ask your fellow conversation-er for an explanation of exactly who Justin Beiber is, it is clear there are no longer universal "topics of the day".

Safe small talk topics here in Melbourne once included the football, free-to-air TV and the top stories in that day's Age. With a diversifying population those topics are no longer (if they ever were) known to all. Some people in this fair city don't even follow AFL football (I know! Shock!), television is delivered via a multitude of free-to-air and pay-TV channels and people obtain their news from a variety of mainstream and online media. We can't make assumptions, particularly in meeting strangers.

So how do we strike up those conversations? What are your sure-fire topics to get the ball rolling, or tips that help with the art of small talk?

How full is your letterbox?

December heralds for this household a special time - it is the only time of the year that significant amounts of 'personal' mail fill our letterbox. For most of the year, it contains bills, marketing materials and 'official' letters. For a few short weeks a year, there are also handwritten items wishing us seasonal greetings.

But I've noticed a trend. There was once a time when we'd receive around 100 Christmas cards. This year, I reckon we'll be lucky to get 50. I don't think it's that we're less popular than we used to be....I think it's just that less people send cards nowadays.

Before our time, the sending of a handwritten card through the mail was the accepted way to convey greetings and best wishes to family and friends worldwide.

The first commercial Christmas cards were commissioned by Sir Henry Cole in London in 1843. It was not an idea of totally altruistic origins however, as Cole had helped introduce the Penny Post three years earlier. Imagine the boost to the postal services Christmas cards must have provided over the years.

By the latter half of the 19th century, Australia and the United States had followed suit.

Nowadays however, there are many options for sending festive greetings: email, e-cards, text messages, a message on a blog or a Facebook wall. Phone calls are cheaper than they once were.

Some people don't even bother with any of the above.

I am a die-hard card sender, but mine don't always make it out before Christmas. I believe a card is as good in the New Year as it is in the week before Christmas.

Call me old-fashioned, but I love to receive cards from friends and family. I especially love the year-in-review letters and/or photos some people include - there's nothing like catching up on a year's news in a couple of minutes.

It takes time, but the sending of a card sends more than a piece of paper. It tells the recipient that you are thinking of them, and that they are still a valued part of your life whether or not you have had much contact over the previous twelve months or so.

But then again, an email could also send that same message. In these technologically advanced times, are the traditional cards' days numbered?

To card or not to card? That is the question.

Marmalade as meditation

"I got the blues thinking of the future, so I left off and made some marmalade. It's amazing how it cheers one up to shred oranges or scrub the floor."

DH Lawrence writing to Arthur McLeod, from 'Villa Igea', Villa di Gargnano (Brescia), Lagodi Garda, Italy. 17 January 1913.

The selected letters of D.H. Lawrence
By D. H. Lawrence, James T. Boulton
Compiled by James T. Boulton
Published by Cambridge University Press, 2000

It seems DH Lawrence may have been onto something.

With thoughts of the future spinning in my head the past few weeks, I took some time out yesterday to make some marmalade. (I drew the line at scrubbing floors.)

I used a recipe from an 1845 cookbook, and apart from a brief moment when I was perplexed as to what the 'straw' may be* that I was to pierce the tender oranges with, it was a very easy recipe to make.

ORANGE MARMALADE Procure Seville oranges, stew them till they become so tender, that you can pierce them with a straw, changing the water two or three times. Drain them, take off the rind, weigh the pulps, previously taking out the pips; and supposing the quantity to be six pounds, add seven of sugar; boil it slowly till the syrup be clear, then add the peel, having cut it into strips. Boil it again and it is finished. This is a new method, and found to be excellent as well as economical. Seville oranges are in their best state at the end of March or beginning of April.

The practical cook, English and foreign, By Joseph Bregion, Anne Miller, 1845

And at the end of the day, I had around six months' supply of marmalade for my breakfast toast.

DH Lawrence was right, it is amazing how the nature of shredding the rinds can be almost a meditative experience, as can the stirring of the boiling pot.

In today's world we have a tendency to see repetitive tasks as tiresome chores, something to be endured and something to get through as quickly as possible.

In doing so, we are missing an opportunity to enjoy the experience of taking time out to do something productive. Chores can instead be a time when we can focus on the task at hand, dismissing the day's concerns from our minds.

When I am working on creative writing pieces, some of my best ideas come about when I an doing 'a chore' such as washing the dishes.

What repetitive tasks do you do to unwind or cheer yourself up?

* thank you to the Before Our Time Twitter followers who offered opinions about the nature of 'a straw' in my hour of need.