This was published 7 years ago
Conversation at parties is a dying art – here's how we can revive it
By Jenna Price
Excellent party behaviour has some overarching principles.
Joni Mitchell, revered queen of sad ballads, describes people at parties perfectly, particularly when she sings the last two lines of that opening verse. I thought party behaviour was getting worse over the six decades I've been alive – but she sings it as if it's always been this way.
People talking about themselves non-stop.
That's my take on parties today. And the take of Australia's doyenne of etiquette Marion von Adlerstein, former travel director of Vogue Australia. She has clear ideas on how to make it a real party.
(She's the author of a book she says could never be written today, The Penguin Book of Etiquette.)
Yes, at parties, you are completely fascinating. How do I know that?
I know this because I have spent five minutes with you at a party this festive season and you have spent those five minutes telling me everything about yourself. What makes you happy. What enrages you. Your most recent achievements and that of your children (trust me, I love talking about my children. But there is a limit). You've done some public complaining about your circumstance. And made some rather sweet comments about your current squeeze, and some disparaging ones about your past squeeze.
If someone tested me on the subject of you, I could probably get a distinction. I know your name, your living arrangements and, very nearly, your blood and alcohol type.
Also, I'm pretty confident you don't even know my name.
I've tested this thesis on a few friends and they say this only happens because I'm a journalist and I look interested (it's quite lovely being paid to listen to people talk). Maybe. But I think this is recent phenomenon – not asking one single question of someone you just met at a party.
Excellent party behaviour – or what used to be called social etiquette – has some overarching principles.
But isn't etiquette some hideous controlling set of rules we can never know, always made to feel excluded and awkward?
Well yes, of course, sometimes. But also, no. Etiquette is very much also a guide to helping everyone have a better time.
Von Adlerstein has a clear view of why the art of conversation appears to be dying.
"Self-absorption is a way of life and narcissism is all around ... people are very full of themselves," she says.
Now before you get all, ohmigod, she's picking on Millennials, hold on. Von Adlerstein says the syndrome affects all ages, all genders, all everything. Everyone. We all talk about ourselves non-stop.
"The art of listening is gone. That's a shame because when you listen, you learn such a lot."
I ask her if there is anything we can do to make parties more about dialogue than monologues. She's not hopeful.
"I don't think you can fight it but if you take the view that the person is interesting in a different kind of way, if you observe that behaviour, you can learn something about yourself."
So, how do we develop the art of conversation?
In von Adlerstein's 2002 book, she recommends compliments as a way to get the party started. But don't get too personal. Unless you have an instant attraction, in which case go for it. Never pays to be shy.
And I would love to get this as a card to hand out at all gatherings, festive or not: "Whenever you are with a group of people, an unwritten code of etiquette determines that nobody should hog the conversation, parade their knowledge of some esoteric subject that is of no interest to anybody else, be dogmatic in expressing opinions, ridicule those with a different view, repeat stories everybody has heard many times before, whisper asides to another person or make a habit of interrupting people in mid-sentence."
That's a pretty complete list of DO NOT DO at any party. Ask yourself if you've done those things; and then avoid repeating them at your next outing.
Von Adlerstein's tips are useful. Aside from compliments (never be creepy), you can chat about how you both know your host, traffic, weather, or you can volunteer to get your new friend a drink (and actually return with the drink). Maybe even a small, not-too-revealing, personal anecdote.
"Some people have it, a patter, but I'm not very good at that," says von Adlerstein. Her best advice is to have some generosity in any conversation you have.
"Find some common ground. Listening is always the answer."
And what if you are the droner?
Recognise it. And apologise at once.
Happy conversation and a glorious new year.