“I gave her a look which she correctly interpreted to mean Stay Off Politics, and she said what a shame it was that, with all of Europe at war, we couldn’t go abroad for our honeymoon.” — Patrick Dennis, Auntie Mame
Dear Etiquetteer:
How may a host or hostess, in their fiduciary duty to all of their guests, firmly put a tourniquet on an unwelcome conversational topic arising at table (a situation where guests are more likely to feel held hostage, as opposed to an unseated situation where guests can move away)? Does the situation change where there is no one obviously assuming the role of host or hostess?
Dear Ambushed:
First, three cheers for using the word “fiduciary” outside its traditional context in the financial world. “Of the nature of a trust; involving confidence or trust” is the relevant definition in Dear Grandmother’s enormous old Webster’s New International Dictionary*. If we don’t use our words, we’ll lose ’em!**
In this case, you mean a dinner guest’s trust in the host to provide a safe, non-threatening occasion, and the host’s responsibility to do so when an obstacle appears. Advocating for the safety and comfort of guests who aren’t so forceful, without spotlighting those guests — hosts don’t always like to do this, but they need to.
That’s especially challenging when the obstacle is another guest with violently held beliefs ready to mix it up with anyone who disagrees. Let’s call this person the Volcano, a good gender-neutral term. Even though the stereotype is an angry old man, people of all genders and ages sound off and don’t know when to stop.
There’s no foolproof plan, sorry. No matter how many ways there are to send a message, a Volcano has to receive the message. A host’s first weapon is the Icy Glance or Stare, which will silence more than a few Volcanos. (In Etiquetteer’s experience, ladies are better at this than gentlemen.) A loud and brisk Change of Subject comes next, hopefully with the help of someone else at the table joining in. Go ahead and interrupt, even if the Volcano is a Venerable Old Relation.
If that doesn’t work, addressing the Volcano directly can’t be avoided. “We’re not going to be able to solve that problem around this table” or “We can talk about that after dinner” sound neutral, but the tone makes a difference. Deliver those remarks as if to say “You are absolutely ruining this dinner I have worked so hard to make nice for everyone, and I will never forgive you if you don’t shut your godforsaken mouth this very minute.”
And if even that doesn’t work, go full-on Fay Bainter in Jezebel. “This subject is an unwelcome one,” delivered with the icy crush of a collapsing glacier. Stand at the table for greater effect if necessary, say nothing further, and remain standing, glaring like the basilisk, until the Volcano apologizes or the conversation resumes on neutral topics.
You ask what to do if there’s no obvious host, but even in a restaurant, there’s generally someone who organized the party. That, to Etiquetteer, makes the organizer the responsible host. And if that person isn’t stepping up, why don’t you lead the way to a more neutral topic?
After dinner, someone may need to give the Volcano a good talking to about their bad manners. This may also include a threat not to invite them in the future if deemed necessary.
Etiquetteer wishes you smoothly run dinner tables with deft conversation to which all may contribute without fear of retribution. You’ll find some additional tips on dealing with the Voluble here.
*Page 941, and you’ll observe that’s not even halfway through F. It’s a Hefty Tome!
**As Bonnie Franklin so memorably said to Gavin McLeod on The Love Boat, “Lord, I love a silver-tongued man.”