Banter

Henry Lloyd-Hughes: Wikipedia

I’ve been forced to reflect, recently on the nature of banter. What is it? Witty, Shakespearean repartee? Playful badinage? Verbal assault? When does it tip over into the last category?  

A simple cyber search throws up these as the top definitions of banter:

The playful and friendly exchange of teasing remarks.

The Urban dictionary goes further: Supple term used to describe activities or chat that is playful, intelligent and original.

Playful and intelligent? Do we hear a lot of that? Don’t get me wrong; I’m fond of a bit of witty sparing myself, and it’s a bit of skill, seeing how far you can push it. But do some people push it too far?

I once had a friend who could be really good company, a lot of the time  - wickedly funny, quirky, interested in lots of different things. When I first got to know him, he was a real laugh to go down the pub with. But he could also be devastatingly cruel (more Frankie Boyle than Michael McIntyre). He was like a heat-seeking missile; identifying perceived physical flaws in others:

‘She needs to sort out her teeth!’

‘She should wear a bra that fits her properly.’

‘She’s got these little blue veins in her feet.’

(All different ‘shes’ by the way; not the same person. Interesting that all the insults are against women though...)

He was like Mr Bennet’s defintition of Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice; only looking at a woman (or a man) to see a flaw in them.

He was incredibly cutting. He once told a friend of mine that she would have noticed something, if she ever stopped talking! He told another mutual friend that the only woman they’d ever snag would be a mail-order bride.

He also had a real knack of finding your emotional Achilles heel and hacking it with a metaphorical axe.

‘Oh, that’s just him.’ People would say, heck, I would say. ‘You know what he’s like; he doesn’t mean anything by it.’

At a certain point, though, you had to wonder whether he did mean something by it and weigh up whether the laughs outweighed the insults or vice versa.

Ultimately the insults won out and this is someone I don’t see socially any more.

Does banter have its origins in playground insults? Sometimes it seems to be a main method of communication between men. Age doesn’t appear to be a barrier; even some older men seem incapable of greeting each other without a liberal sprinkling of insults. I get that in a culture of masculinity, where feelings have to be kept under wraps; it might be easier to slate one another, than to expose your vulnerable underbelly and say something like: ‘I’ve missed you.’ But when the insults get nasty and personal; criticising someone’s physical appearance; slagging off their partner and relations; is it a sign of insecurity?

When is a joke not a joke? “I’m only joking - where’s your sense of humour?” Call me a po-faced, humourless cow (I've been called far worse), but I don’t think there’s a lot of skill or originality involved in telling someone that they are losing their hair. But if you are not permitted to take offence at a personal remark, for fear of being accused of not having a sense of humour, then the verbal assailant has backed you into a corner. What can you do? Go down to their level and dismantle them; piece by piece. Or take the high ground, smile and turn the other cheek.

The thing is; I tell my children off for saying nasty, mean things to each other, so why should the so called grown-ups get away with it?

I'll leave the last words of this piece to my former friend; he'd seen them written on the wall of a public toilet and taken a photo of them: “Choose being kind, over being right.”

I wonder if he ever managed to take those words to heart.