I’m not sure what he was commenting on because I did not listen to what he said

I’m not sure what he was commenting on, because I did not listen to what he said. I didn’t even try to listen, because experience has shown me that listening to Jack Straw is self-defeating. There is something about the quality of his voice that prevents you taking in what he is saying.Of course, like all politicians he is trying to avoid saying anything, but there is something else present as well, some magic quality in his delivery that puts you into a mini-blackout and prevents you taking in his message or, in Straw’s case, lack of message. Michael Howard used to have this gift when he was Home Secretary. He would come on to explain exactly what was meant by something or other, the voice would start, and suddenly someone would say “Home Secretary, thank you very much”, and you would realise that your mind had been switched off for the past four minutes.To be fair, it’s not just politicians The same happens with the weather forecast. Other people have told me that I am not the only one who listens to the weather and comes away convinced that my part of the country was not mentioned.

It must be covered, of course, but in some way we must be prevented from hearing that particular bit. It is quite possible that we switch off from Straw and Howard because we don’t want to hear what they are saying, but when it comes to a weather report for our neck of the woods and we still can’t hear what it says…This gift for aural invisibility crops up elsewhere I think it is fair to say that the Queen has it. It’s almost impossible to remember anything she has said after she has said it, or to concentrate while she is saying it General de Gaulle probably cultivated it on purpose. All sides would listen to his euphuistic, statesmanlike utterances and come away convinced he was on their side.Opera singers have the gift of verbal opaqueness too.

They sing so beautifully that meaningfulness is almost entirely absent. I am not an opera-goer, but I have quite often heard divas attempt to sing classy popular composers such as Gershwin, and the result is always that the words disappear into a pool of beautiful warbling. You simply cannot hear what they are singing.I once heard one of these divas – either Jessye Norman or Kiri Te Kanawa, I think – singing the standard “Mean To Me”, and although I know the words pretty well, I could not follow what she was singing about The words disappeared into a fog of fine phrases. Well, if divas can’t manage a simple standard with easy American words, how do opera-goers have any idea what she is singing about? What was it like on the first night of a new Verdi opera in the 19th century? Was everyone handed the libretto or a plot summary as they went in? If not, I don’t understand how they knew what it was all about. Maybe that is why so many operas use stories that are well-known already… A reader writes: Excuse me, but I think that I must have dropped off in the middle of this article. What is it about exactly ?Miles Kington writes: I think I did too Let’s try again tomorrow
More from Miles Kington. The wild red stag may be known as the Monarch of the Glen, but in one part of Scotland its days may be numbered.