The Big Smoke

‘Conversation about the weather,’ said Oscar Wilde, ‘is the last refuge of the unimaginative,’ and given that he died almost a century before the arrival of Big Brother, that seems fair comment. But even the wildly imaginative could do with a little conversational guidance (I still remember reading a prominent gallery owner’s preparation plans for a date: see two films back to back, so she’d have something to talk about). After all, there’s more to an interesting evening than remembering not to mention rain or what someone does for a living.

The School of Life intends to help, with carefully organised Meals at Konstam (so, everything sourced within the M25 except the subjects for discussion). There are tasks to accomplish, aphorisms to discuss with the aperitif, questions to bat across the table with a stranger through dinner, postcards to ponder over dessert.

It has the potential to be excruciating, but actually it’s tremendous fun, partly because there’s no bullying to stick to the programme – if you’re having a different interesting conversation, good luck to you – and partly because you eat surrounded by people who at least value the art of high-level communication, even if they feel underqualified in it.

At my table (of four: you push tables together halfway through dinner), we ranged from the pros and cons of LA as a place to live through the British problem (if it has one) with nudity to the curious fact that while a group of exorcists is happy to talk about born-again virgins, a group of born-again virgins won’t let you mention an exorcist. Who knew?