It’s in decline; but people have been saying that for a very long time. What is it? Here’s a rough definition, drawn from describing the way Huck Finn conversed with Jim:
Both participants listen attentively to each other; neither tries to promote himself by pleasing the other; both are obviously enjoying an intellectual workout; neither spoils the evening’s peaceable air by making a speech or letting disagreement flare into anger; they do not make tedious attempts to be witty. They observe classic conversational etiquette with a self-discipline that would have pleased Michel de Montaigne, Samuel Johnson, or any of a dozen other old masters of good talk whom Miller cites as authorities.
This etiquette, Miller says, is essential if conversation is to rise to the level of—well, "good conversation." The etiquette is hard on hotheads, egomaniacs, windbags, clowns, politicians, and zealots. The good conversationalist must never go purple with rage, like people on talk radio; never tell a long-winded story, like Joseph Conrad; and never boast that his views enjoy divine approval, like a former neighbor of mine whose car bumper declared, "God Said It, I Believe It, And That Settles It."
This is taken from Russell Baker’s engaging review of a new book on the subject by Stephen Miller. Conversation is Oakeshott’s metaphor for free association; Michael Totten sees it as the antidote to terror on the Israel-Lebanon border. I’d say it’s a practice integral to liberal democracy. Which is why the more open-minded parts of the blogosphere have an important part to play in reviving it.
The Dish 