There is a line from J.B Priestley, from the novel The Image Men, which I’ve just started again. It’s a line spoken by an almost supernaturally clever character and goes something like ‘Relationships, on the cocktail-party level, are tedious. Parties are such a bore.’ And since I got married, I’ve found this audacious summary of these precious social gatherings to be disappointing but largely true.
My wife turned 40 last week. ‘You know,’ I said to her, ‘a good rule of thumb for birthday parties is only to invite people who you know well enough to.’ Well, actually I think ‘fart in front of’ was how I put it to her. ‘Take intimacy over extravagance,’ I implored. ‘You’ll have a much nicer time.’ But it was, as she pointed out, her birthday, not mine, and she wanted to raise the roof.
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