Dinner parties

Q. What is the correct thing to say to a writer friend whose book you haven’t read? I buy most friends’ books out of loyalty but there have been so many in the last few months that I can’t think when I will have the time, if ever, to read them. So what feedback can I tactfully give? — Name and address withheld A. You might take a tip from Sir John Betjeman. Derwent May has given me permission to repeat his own account of taking Caroline Blackwood to lunch and finding John Betjeman in the restaurant. Kind Betjeman sprang instantly to his feet to announce, ‘I’ve just ordered several copies of that book!

Q. My dear English husband has never mastered the knack of timing his interventions in conversation. He hesitates politely, and by the time somebody pauses, his comments are no longer to the point so he shuts up. After 45 years I always know when there’s something he wants to say, and it’s become a sort of party turn that I butt in and call for order for the next speaker — which doesn’t reflect well on either of us. Any ideas, Mary? Should he signal, for example by raising his right forefinger, the hand resting on the dinner table? — B.D., Frankfurt A. This gesture is too puny to halt the egotists holding forth.

Q. Some years ago, on holiday in Egypt, we found ourselves in the company of a couple who wanted to see us when we got home. Out of politeness we agreed and we have now fallen into a rut of reciprocal dinners. It has become a bore — perhaps for them as well. How can we stop it without seeming rude? — B.K., address withheld A. Next time provide entertainment as well as dinner.  A talk, concert or play would give new shared references to discuss, just like in the days when you had Egypt in common. It would also halt a slide into cultural complacency. In London, for example, a 5 x 15 event would fit most bills. Five writers each speak for 15 minutes to a wine-drinking audience who can then eat dinner downstairs.