Bell ponders the art in conversation

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In our world of electronic and digital communications, one wonders what evidence of our day-to-day lives will exist for our descendants in the next century. Modern technology has given us the ability to be in almost constant touch with one another. But, will our emails and texts still exist a hundred years from now? For decades, letter writing was often an everyday occurrence for most people. Keeping in touch meant sitting down with pen and paper. Receiving a letter was often an exciting event, especially from someone miles away. And, for many, including Alexander Graham Bell and his family, these letters were something to be kept, not simply discarded once read. The Bells were profuse writers and as a result, their story can be told today through thousands of letters.

Born in Scotland in 1847, Alexander Graham Bell lived a unique life. Influenced by his father, Melville, a professor of elocution, and his deaf mother, Eliza; the loss of his brothers, Melville and Edward, to Consumption; and marriage to his deaf pupil, Mabel Hubbard, Bell left a legacy to the world that few could imagine living without. How this came to pass is best revealed through the letters between these individuals. Here, we present those letters to you.

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Having written until the oil in his lamp ran out the evening before, Alec wrote this lengthy postscript to his Aug, 1, 1876, letter to Mabel. Alec’s subject here is rather interesting, given his invention would soon give rise to electric conversation.

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(Wednesday morning)
(August 1876)

Dear May

I scarcely have the heart to add a morning postscript to this already too-long letter. I am afraid I resume a little too much when I fancy you like to read as much as I like to write – so I shall make this Addendum as short as possible. I presume from your yesterday’s letter that you are now at home again – where I long to be too. Cambridge looks to me like a fairy dream-home far away in the distance from here – too beautiful almost to be real.

To think that there are any there who care one pin for me seems so extraordinary – that I feel very like rushing back by the first train to ascertain whether it is true or not. I only wish I could show in my outward actions how much I love all who are there – and how much I feel my own undeservingness of so much kindness & thought.

It is strange that your mother should have touched upon a subject that has been haunting me for some time past – the subject of “conversation”. I think that there is an Art in Conversation that is worthy of study. It is certainly everybody’s duty to learn how to talk so as to interest and entertain others. I often feel like hiding myself away in a corner out of sight – for my inability to converse upon subjects that interest people generally.

Your mother is my admiration in this matter, and I only wish she would let me into her secret. Words seem to flow out of her mouth for everybody – while I can only speak of Electricity or Gravitation or some equally interesting (?) subject.

Whenever I try to say anything I stop all conversation. If there is anything of value in what I say people leave all the talking for me to do – and I don’t like it at all. I think it is a great art to interest & entertain people without obtruding one’s self – and monopolizing all the talking. I have been thinking over the subject in a scientific sort of way and I fancy I have got hold of one or two principles that may throw light on the Nature of Conversation – and may prove of actual use in interesting people and preventing the appearance of that awful lull in conversation that sometimes occurs when every person coughs and feels uncomfortable – and no one seems to be able to throw in a word to break the awkwardness of the silence. I remember one occasion on which your mother was as much at a loss as I was – and could not say one word to break my silence! Had it not been for Gertrude’s appearance upon the scene just in time I can’t imagine what would have happened. I made a little experiment at Uncle David’s house the other day – and found to my surprise and delight – that by interposing a little remark here and there – I could control the current of conversation and turn it in any direction I liked – and this too without taking much part myself.

Every person was entirely unconscious of the experiment that was being tried. I thought of some subject I wanted to hear discussed, and tried (without alluding to the subject myself) to lead the conversation in the desired direction. Invariably some one or more of the party would fall into the trap and up would come the very subject I wanted.

I am convinced there is something in my theory – and I am going to think it out – and see if I cannot apply it in actual conversation. My postscript is assuming gigantic proportions & I better write no more on the subject of “Conversation” or I shall have you breaking our engagement under the plea of cruelty – in inflicting such tremendous letter upon you. Love to all at home and ever so much for your dear self.

Your loving
Alec.

The Bell Letters are annotated by Brian Wood, curator, Bell Homestead National Historic Site.