I ONCE SHARED THE TABLE of a former Master of Marlborough College with a guest who looked just like a gorilla. “I don’t want to say who it is,” announced the host’s eight-year-old daughter, “but someone here looks just like a gorilla.”
“Don’t be rude about your father, dear,” the Master interjected.
Children are invaluable interlocutors if you want to insult a guest without licensing offence. My students read Fernão Mendes Pinto’s account of an entertainment’s little girl and her schoolfriends put on a play, savagely lampooning the visitors for eating with their fingers.
