Wednesday, May 08, 2019

'A General Effect of Pleasing Impression'

While in rehab following spinal surgery I had an interesting conversation with a nurse about what constitutes an interesting conversation. They are rare for her while on the job. Her patients are too sick or drugged, in too much pain or otherwise cocooned within themselves. For many, the last thing in the world they want is conversation, interesting or otherwise. Just being hurts. I probably felt that way soon after surgery.

We started with the negative. I challenged her to name the most excruciatingly tedious subject that people choose to talk about, besides their own health. Without a pause she said, “Cars.” All too true, though not at the top of my list. “Politics,” I said, and she agreed, and I might expand it to include news in general, which is unwatchable/unlistenable/unreadable. “Money and buying stuff,” she suggested. Next, from me, “Sports.” More enthusiastic agreement from her, followed by a blood-curdling recollection of a former boyfriend for whom football was oxygen. “Overinflated stories about the accomplishments of children.” That’s my wording of her suggestion, and she was right on the money. I generalized the idea by saying, “Any sort of bragging.”

Which brings up an interesting point. It’s not just the subject matter that is tiresome in so many attempts at conversation but the manner of delivery. If the nurse were to tell me, with appropriately quiet pride, that her daughter had been awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor, I would be riveted. I could listen for hours. But if someone’s brat hits a double in Little League, and the parent won’t stop cheering about Junior's accomplishment, include me out, to use a Goldwyn-ism.

Language helps. Some people can’t tell a story. They spew information like half-digested food. The best conversation often hinges on the witty, concise, incisive choice of words, and a nicely nuanced sense of dynamics. When someone comes out with “I hate Trump” or “I love Trump,” and thinks he has said something profound, memorable or original, the conversation drops dead. Prefabricated sentiments are not conversation. Between the right people, subject matter can be as airy as meringue and still result in first-rate conversation. Boswell reports Dr. Johnson saying, “The happiest conversation is that of which nothing is distinctly remembered but a general effect of pleasing impression.” That describes pretty accurately the conversations I had with the nurse while I was lying in the hospital bed. A pleasant, palliative memory.

1 comment:

mike zim said...

On whiny valetudinarians:

--Though Mr. Johnson was commonly affected even to agony at the thoughts of a friend's dying, he troubled himself very little with the complaints they might make to him of ill health. "Dear Doctor (said he one day to a common acquaintance, who lamented the tender state of his inside), do not be like the spider, man; and spin conversation thus incessantly out thy own bowels."
Piozzi: Anecdotes