The French, they say, have a word for it. Or, in this case, an entire phrase, to describe the situation when you’ve been at a social event and some wiseacre has made a smart remark at your expense, but it’s not until you’re out of the door and halfway down the stairs that you think of the snappy comeback that would’ve floored the bastard… if only you’d thought of it in time.
The French expression originates in an episode described by the philosopher Denis Diderot (1713-84). Some time around 1773 he was invited to dinner at the house of a Monsieur Necker. During the course of the meal, Diderot told a story to which another guest, a M. Marmontel, responded with a witty remark that completely floored Diderot:
Cette apostrophe me déconcerte et me réduit au silence, parce que l’homme sensible, comme moi, tout entier à ce qu’on lui objecte, perd la tête et ne se retrouve qu’au bas de l’escalier.
‘This remark disconcerted me and reduced me to silence; because when a man of sensibility, such as me, is overwhelmed by a counter-argument, he loses his head, and can only think clearly again when he gets to the bottom of the stairs.’
Denis Diderot, Paradoxe sur le comédien (Paradox of the actor), written between 1770 and 1778; published posthumously 1830.
Writing can be the same. You spend hours trying to make a scene work and nothing seems to do the trick. Finally, in despair, you throw in the towel and wander downstairs to console yourself with a cup of coffee… and you’re standing at the kitchen window, staring at the sparrows, waiting for the kettle to boil, when it comes to you in a blinding flash—oh yeah, that’s what has to happen!
The trick then is to write it down, toot sweet! These gifts can evaporate as quickly as they manifest.
Are they always right? Of course not.
Donald Hounam 