Sarcasm, it seems, would be the English virtue, and not much of a virtue anywhere else. Of course, for those who consider the world to be a stage, sarcasms are just as witty as any other types of humour, and taking jibes at each other would be something that shows witticism and brevity, not a personal insult.

This would be a personal insult:

“You are ugly.”

This would be sarcasm:

“Your face is so beautiful I think I want to gouge my eyeballs out.”

The thing is, sarcasm can be taken as a way to circumspectly insult someone else, but the insult has to be received by someone who has an equal or better comprehension of the motives behind the word choices. In other words, one needs a sarcasm sensor to not get offended by it.

In many cases amongst the islanders, sarcasm is so ingrained within everyday conversations that one doesn’t even consider whether it is a personal insult or not.  This would not necessarily be meant to be hurtful, rather the acerbic tone is just a characteristic, and not meant to be taken personally. It’s a fine line that does not seem to translate, even if there are very little language barriers.

Case in point:

A: “I hate Dostoyevsky.”

B: “I find him quite interesting.”

A: “Don’t be ridiculous, you haven’t read a book in your life.”

This is rather direct, and therefore meant as an insult. It better be taken as an insult, otherwise Speaker A would officially categorise Speaker B as an imbecile and any kind of discourse would be over. Oh dear, this person can’t even identify insults. He would need to be fed and taught how to sit on hind paws would be what speaker A is thinking, in all possibilities.

However:

A: “I hate Dostoyevsky.”

B: “I find him quite interesting.”

A: “You read?!”

This conversation leaves B with two choices: one, to take the final remark as an insult and get mortally offended, in which case Nesbit’s observation that a person gets angry when the truth is told might be proven true; or two, B can come back with a witticism, in which the ball is back in A’s court. Thus a lively banter continues, a competition of wit as well as patience.

However, this kind of verbal tennis requires training, of which most do not grow up with. And then they get mortally offended, and the speaker A walks away, shaking his/her head, thinking “so much for humour and esprit. What happened to the sense of wit?”