Praising Famous Men

My readers (“Charlie Babbit made a joke!”) are familiar with my interest in the line between communication and miscommunication. (Click on those words in the tag cloud on the left to view related posts.) Recently, this interest has collided with another newly-developed fixation: my theory that creativity impels the spirit to liberality. Suggestions from right-wing friends have sent me borrowing into what passes for conservative philosophizing on the American scene. The single star on this otherwise dreary horizon is the late William F. Buckley Jr.

Without digressing into an enjoyable recitation of WFB’s many qualities as a conservative stylist, his greatest gift was a witty facility with language. Dick Cavett wrote of WFB’s first appearance on his television talk show:

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… I … find myself in the daunting world of hosting a talk show. I had seen a lot of Buckley on his own show — a formidable presence on the screen — and there he was on my next week’s guest list.

Because it was Buckley, I was nervous in a way I don’t think I ever was before or since. If you’d asked me what exactly I was nervous about, I doubt that I could have defined it.

Then I found out.

Conversation seemed to be moving along nicely when, in reference to something he had just brought up, I said, “I’m not really familiar with that.” Back came, “You don’t seem to be familiar with anything.”

Wham!

I think I nearly lost consciousness. It was a rotten thing to say to a beginner.

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The exchange keys into WFB’s ability to torque a vapid and entirely common packet of mainstream communication (“I’m not really familiar with that”) into a Wildean stab of ridicule. WFB applied this ability to deconstruct received wisdom to commenting on American politics through the second half of the 20th century. Though he was, in a sense, a counter-example to my creative => liberal theory, his leverage was limited by the un-American exoticness of his expression. Cavett relates that the (presumably Liberal) college professor who alerted him to WFB’s brilliance went on to say that “If he had a little more of the common touch, he’d be a truly dangerous man.” The professor was surely referring to more than just WFB’s use of language — WFB was a notorious name-dropper comically prone to being impressed by celebrity — but his high-falutin’ speech was likely Exhibit A.

This entry was posted on April 26, 2008 at 13:35 and is filed under Communication. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.