Use the Demonic Power of Words to Sow Confusion
It is hard to make people listen; they are consumed with their own thoughts and desires, and have little time for yours. The trick to
making them listen is to say what they want to hear, to fill their ears with whatever is pleasant to them. This is the essence of seductive language. Inflame people’s emotions with loaded phrases, flatter them, comfort their insecurities, envelop them in fantasies, sweet words, and promises, and not only will they listen to you, they will
lose their Will to resist you. Keep your language vague, letting them read into it what they want. Use writing to stir up fantasies and to
create an idealized portrait of yourself.
After Operation Sedition, we are being treated to Operation Seduction.
—MAURICE KRIEGEL- VALRIMONT ON CHARLES DE GAULLE, SHORTLY AFTER THE
GENERAL ASSUMED POWER
My mistress staged a lockout \ I went back to
verses and compliments, \ My natural weapons. Soft words \ Remove harsh door-chains. There’s magic in poetry, its power \ Can pull down the
bloody moon, \ Turn back the sun, make serpents burst asunder \ Or rivers flow upstream. \ Doors are no match for such spellbinding, the toughest \ Locks can be open-sesamed by its charms. \ But epic’s a dead loss for me. I’ll get nowhere with
swift-footed \ Achilles, or with either of Atreus’ sons, \ Old what’s- his-name wasting twenty years on war and travel, \ Poor Hector dragged in the dust—\ No good. But lavish fine words on some young girl’s profile \ And sooner or later she’ll
tender herself as the fee, \ An ample reward for
your labors. So farewell, heroic \ Figures of legend
—the quid \ Pro quo you offer won’t tempt me. A
bevy of beauties \ All swooning over my love-songs
—that’s what I want.
—OVID, THE AMORES, TRANSLATED BY PETER GREEN
Seductive Oratory
On May 13, 1958, right-wing Frenchmen and their sympathizers in the army seized control of Algeria, which was then a French colony. They had been afraid that France’s socialist government would grant Algeria its independence. Now, with Algeria under their control, they threatened to
take over all of France. Civil war seemed imminent.
At this dire moment all eyes turned to General Charles de Gaulle, the World War II hero who had played a crucial role in liberating France from the Nazis. For the last ten years de Gaulle had stayed away from politics, disgusted with the infighting among the various parties. He remained very popular, and was generally seen as the one man who could unite the country, but he was also a conservative, and the right-wingers felt certain that if he came to power he would support their cause. Days after the May
13 coup, the French government—the Fourth Republic—collapsed, and the parliament called on de Gaulle to help form a new government, the Fifth Republic. He asked for and was granted full powers for four months. On
June 4, days after becoming the head of government, de Gaulle flew to Algeria.
The French colonials were ecstatic. It was their coup that had indirectly brought de Gaulle to power; surely, they imagined, he was coming to thank them, and to reassure them that Algeria would remain French. When he
arrived in Algiers, thousands of people filled the city’s main plaza. The mood was extremely festive—there were banners, music, and endless chants of “Algérie française,”the French-colonial slogan. Suddenly de
Gaulle appeared on a balcony overlooking the plaza. The crowd went wild. The general, an extremely tall man, raised his arms above his head, and the chanting doubled in volume. The crowd was begging him to join in. Instead he lowered his arms until silence fell, then opened them wide, and slowly intoned, in his deep voice, “Je vous ai compris”—I have understood you.
There was a moment of quiet, and then, as his words sank in, a deafening roar: he understood them. That was all they needed to hear.
De Gaulle proceeded to talk of the greatness of France. More cheers. He promised there would be new elections, and “with those elected
representatives we will see how to do the rest.” Yes, a new government, just what the crowd wanted—more cheers. He would “find the place for
Algeria” in the French “ensemble.” There must be “total discipline, without qualification and without conditions”—who could argue with that? He closed with a loud call: “Vive la Republique! Vive la France!,” the emotional slogan that had been the rallying cry in the fight against the Nazis. Everyone shouted it back. In the next few days de Gaulle made similar speeches around Algeria, to equally delirious crowds.
When she has received a letter, when its sweet poison has entered her blood, then a word is sufficient to make her love burst forth. . . , My personal presence will prevent ecstasy. If I am present only in a letter, then she can easily cope with me; to some extent, she mistakes me for a more universal creature who dwells in her love.
Then, too, in a letter one can more readily have
free rein; in a letter I can throw myself at her feet in superb fashion, etc.—something that would
easily seem like nonsense if I did it in person, and the illusion would be lost. • On the whole,
letters are and will continue to be a priceless
means of making an impression on a young girl;
the dead letter of writing often has much more influence than the living word. A letter is a
secretive communication; one is master of the situation, feels no pressure from anyone’s actual presence, and I do believe a young girl would
prefer to be alone with her ideal.
—SØREN KIERKEGAARD, THE SEDUCER’S DIARY, TRANSLATED BY HOWARD V. HONG
AND EDNA H. HONG
Only after de Gaulle had returned to France did the words of his speeches sink in: not once had he promised to keep Algeria French. In fact he had hinted that he might give the Arabs the vote, and might grant an amnesty to the Algerian rebels who had been fighting to force the French from the country. Somehow, in the excitement his words had created, the colonists had failed to focus on what they had actually meant. De Gaulle had duped them. And indeed, in the months to come, he worked to grant Algeria its
independence—a task he finally accomplished in 1962.
Interpretation. De Gaulle cared little about an old French colony, and about what it symbolized to some French people. Nor did he have any sympathy for anyone who fomented civil war. His one concern was to make France a modern power. And so, when he went to Algiers, he had a long-term plan: weaken the right-wingers by getting them to fight among themselves, and work toward Algerian independence. His short-term goal had to be to
defuse the tension and buy himself some time. He would not lie to the colonials by saying he supported their cause—that would cause trouble back home. Instead he would beguile them with seductive oratory,
intoxicate them with words. His famous “I have understood you” could easily have meant, “I understand what a danger you represent.” But a jubilant crowd expecting his support read it the way they wanted. To keep them at a fever pitch, de Gaulle made emotional references—to the French Resistance during World War II, for example, and to the need for
“discipline,” a word with great appeal to right-wingers. He filled their ears
with promises—a new government, a glorious future. He got them to chant, creating an emotional bond. He spoke with dramatic pitch and quivering emotion. His words created a kind of delirium.
De Gaulle was not trying to express his feelings or speak the truth; he was trying to produce an effect. This is the key to seductive oratory.
Whether you are talking to a single individual or to a crowd, try a little experiment: rein in your desire to speak your mind. Before you open your mouth, ask yourself a question: what can I say that will have the most pleasant effect on my listeners? Often this entails flattering their egos, assuaging their insecurities, giving them vague hopes for the future, sympathizing with their travails (“I have understood you”). Start off with something pleasant and everything to come will be easy: people’s defenses will go down. They will grow amenable, open to suggestion. Think of your words as an intoxicating drug that will make people emotional and confused. Keep your language vague and ambiguous, letting your listeners fill in the gaps with their fantasies and imaginings. Instead of tuning you out, getting irritated or defensive, being impatient for you to shut up, they will be pliant, happy with your sweet-sounding words.
Let wax pave the way for you, spread out on smooth tablets, \ Let wax go before as witness to your mind— \ Bring her your flattering words,
words that ape the lover: \ And remember, whoever you are, to throw in some good \ Entreaties.
Entreaties are what made Achilles give back \ Hector’s Body to Priam; even an angry god \ Is moved by the voice of prayer. Make promises, what’s the harm in \ Promising? Here’s where
anyone can play rich. \ A persuasive letter’s \
The thing to lead off with, explore her mind, \
Reconnoiter the landscape. A message scratched on an apple \ Betrayed Cydippe: she was snared
by her own words. \ My advice, then, young men of Rome, is to learn the noble \ Advocate‘s arts—not only to let you defend \ Some trembling client: a
woman, no less than the populace, \ Elite senator, or grave judge, \ Will surrender to eloquence.
Nevertheless, dissemble \ Your powers, avoid long words, \ Don’t look too highbrow. Who but a
mindless ninny \ Declaims to his mistress? An
overlettered style \ Repels girls as often as not. Use ordinary language, \ Familiar yet coaxing words— as though \ You were there, in her presence. If she refuses your letter, \ Sends it back unread, persist.
—OVID, THE ART OF LOVE, TRANSLATED BY PETER GREEN
Seductive Writing
One spring afternoon in the late 1830s, in a street in Copenhagen, a man named Johannes caught a glimpse of a beautiful young girl. Self-absorbed yet delightfully innocent, she fascinated him, and he followed her, from a distance, and found out where she lived. Over the next few weeks he made inquiries and found out more about her. Her name was Cordelia Wahl, and she lived with her aunt. The two led a quiet existence; Cordelia liked to read, and to be alone. Seducing young girls was Johannes’s specialty, but Cordelia would be a catch: she had already turned down several eligible suitors.
Johannes imagined that Cordelia might hunger for something more out of life, something grand, something resembling the books she had read and the daydreams that presumably filled her solitude. He arranged an introduction and began to frequent her house, accompanied by a friend of his named Edward. This young man had his own thoughts of courting Cordelia, but he was awkward, and strained to please her. Johannes, on the other hand, virtually ignored her, instead befriending her aunt. They would talk about
the most banal things—farm life, whatever was in the news. Occasionally Johannes would veer off into a more philosophical discussion, for he had
noticed, out of the corner of his eye, that on these occasions Cordelia would listen to him closely, while still pretending to listen to Edward.
This went on for several weeks. Johannes and Cordelia barely spoke, but he could tell that he intrigued her, and that Edward irritated her to no end.
One morning, knowing her aunt was out, he visited their house. It was the first time he and Cordelia had been alone together. As dryly and politely as possible, he proceeded to propose to her. Needless to say she was shocked and flustered. A man who had shown not the slightest interest in her suddenly wanted to marry her? She was so surprised that she referred the matter to her aunt, who, as Johannes had expected, gave her approval. Had Cordelia resisted, her aunt would have respected her wishes; but she did not.
On the outside, everything had changed. The couple were engaged.
Johannes now came to the house alone, sat with Cordelia, held her hand, talked with her. But inwardly he made sure things were the same. He remained distant and polite. He would sometimes warm up, particularly when talking about literature (Cordelia’s favorite subject), but at a certain point he always went back to more mundane matters. He knew this frustrated Cordelia, who had expected that now he would be different. Yet even when they went out together, he took her to formal socials arranged for engaged couples. How conventional! Was this what love and marriage were supposed to be about, these prematurely aged people talking about
houses and their own drab futures? Cordelia, who was shy at the best of times, asked Johannes to stop dragging her to these affairs.
The battlefield was prepared. Cordelia was confused and anxious. Then, a few weeks after their engagement, Johannes sent her a letter. Here he described the state of his soul, and his certainty that he loved her. He spoke in metaphor, suggesting that he had been waiting for years, lantern in hand, for Cordelia’s appearance; metaphor melted into reality, back and forth. The style was poetic, the words glowed with desire, but the whole was delightfully ambiguous—Cordelia could reread the letter ten times without being sure what it said. The next day Johannes received a response. The writing was simple and straightforward, but full of sentiment: his letter had made her so happy, Cordelia wrote, and she had not imagined this side to
his character. He replied by writing that he had changed. He did not say how or why, but the implication was that it was because of her.
Therefore, the person who is unable to write letters and notes never becomes a dangerous seducer.
—SØREN KIERKEGAARD, EITHER/OR, TRANSLATED BY HOWARD V. HONG AND EDNA
H. HONG
Standing on a crag of Olympus \ Gold-throned Hera saw her brother, \ Who was her husband‘s brother too, \ Busy on the fields of human glory, \
And her heart sang. Then she saw Zeus \ Sitting on the topmost peak of Ida \ And was filled with resentment. Cow-eyed Hera \ Mused for a while on how to trick \ The mind of Zeus Aegis-holder, \ And the plan that seemed best to her \ Was to make herself up and go to Ida, \ Seduce him, and then shed on his eyelids \ And cunning mind a sleep
gentle and warm. \ When everything was
perfect, she stepped \ Out of her room and called Aphrodite \ And had a word with her in private: \ “My dear child, will you do something for me, \ I wonder, or will you refuse, angry because \ I favor the Greeks and you the Trojans?” \ And Zeus’
daughter Aphrodite replied: \ “Goddess revered as Cronus’s daughter, \ Speak your mind. Tell me what you want \ And I’ll oblige you if I possibly can.” \ And Hera, with every intention to deceive: \ “Give me now the Sex and Desire \ You use to
subdue immortals and humans. ” \ And
Aphrodite, who loved to smile: \ “How could I, or would I, refuse someone \ Who sleeps in the arms of almighty Zeus?” \ And with that she unbound
from her breast \ An ornate sash inlaid with magical charms, \ Sex is in it, and Desire, and
seductive \ Sweet Talk, that fools even the wise. . . .
\ Hera was fast approaching Gargarus, \ Ida’s highest peak, when Zeus saw her. \ And when he saw her, lust enveloped him, \ Just as it had the first time they made love, \ Slipping off to bed
behind their parents’ backs. \ He stood close to her and said: \ “Hera, why have you left Olympus? \ And where are your horses and chariot?” I And Hera, with every intention to deceive: \ “I’m off to visit the ends of the earth \ And Father Ocean and Mother Tethys \ Who nursed and doted on me in
their house. ” \ And Zeus, clouds scudding
about him: \ “You can go there later just as well. \ Let’s get in bed now and make love. \ No goddess
or woman has ever \ Made me feel so overwhelmed with lust. \ I’ve never loved anyone as I love
you now, \ Never been in the grip of desire so sweet. ” \ And Hera, with every intention to deceive: \ “What a thing to say, my awesome lord.
\ The thought of us lying down here on Ida \ And making love outdoors in broad daylight! \ What if one of the Immortals saw us \ Asleep, and went to all the other gods \ And told them? I could never get up \ And go back home. It would be shamful. \ But if you really do want to do this, \ There is the
bedroom your dear son Hephaestus \ Built for you, with good solid doors. Let’s go \ There and lie down, since you’re in the mood.” \ And Zeus, who masses the clouds, replied: \ “Hera, don’t worry about any god or man \ Seeing us. I’ll enfold you in a cloud so dense \ And golden not even Helios could spy on us, \ And his light is the sharpest vision there is. ”
—HOMER, THE ILIAD, TRANSLATED BY STANLEY LOMBARDO
Now his letters came almost daily. They were mostly of the same length, in a poetic style that had a touch of madness to it, as if he were intoxicated with love. He talked of Greek myth, comparing Cordelia to a nymph and himself to a river that fell in love with a maiden. His soul, he said, merely reflected back her image; she was all he could see or think of. Meanwhile he detected changes in Cordelia: her letters became more poetic, less
restrained. Without realizing it she repeated his ideas, imitating his style and his imagery as if they were her own. Also, when they saw each other in person, she was nervous. He made a point of remaining the same, aloof and regal, but he could tell that she saw him differently, sensing depths in him that she could not fathom. In public she hung on his every word. She must
have memorized his letters, for she referred to them constantly in their talks. It was a secret life they shared. When she held his hand, she did so more tightly than before. Her eyes expressed an impatience, as if she were hoping that at any moment he would do something bold.
Johannes made his letters shorter but more numerous, sometimes sending several in one day. The imagery became more physical and more suggestive, the style more disjointed, as if he could barely organize his thoughts. Sometimes he sent a note of just a sentence or two. Once, at a party at Cordelia’s house, he dropped such a note into her knitting basket and watched as she ran away to read it, her face flushed. In her letters he
saw signs of emotion and turmoil. Echoing a sentiment he had hinted at in an earlier letter, she wrote that she hated the whole engagement business— it was so beneath their love.
Everything was ready. Soon she would be his, the way he wanted it. She would break off the engagement. A rendezvous in the country would be
simple to arrange—in fact she would be the one to propose it. This would be his most skillful seduction.
Interpretation. Johannes and Cordelia are characters in the loosely autobiographical novel The Seducer’s Diary (1843), by the Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard. Johannes is a most experienced seducer, who specializes in working on his victim’s mind. This is precisely where Cordelia’s previous suitors have failed: they have begun by imposing
themselves, a common mistake. We think that by being persistent, by overwhelming our targets with romantic attention, we are convincing them of our affection. Instead we are convincing them of our impatience and insecurity. Aggressive attention is not flattering because it is not personalized. It is unbridled libido at work; the target sees through it.
Johannes is too clever to begin so obviously. Instead, he takes a step back, intriguing Cordelia by acting a little cold, and carefully creating the impression of a formal, somewhat secretive man. Only then does he
surprise her with his first letter. Obviously there is more to him than she has thought, and once she has come to believe this, her imagination runs rampant. Now he can intoxicate her with his letters, creating a presence that haunts her like a ghost. His words, with their images and poetic references, are constantly in her mind. And this is the ultimate seduction: to possess her mind before moving to conquer her body.
The story of Johannes shows what a weapon in a seducer’s armory a letter can be. But it is important to learn how to incorporate letters in seduction. It is best not to begin your correspondence until at least several weeks after your initial contact. Let your victims get an impression of you: you seem intriguing, yet you show no particular interest in them. When you sense that they are thinking about you, that is the time to hit them with your first letter. Any desire you express for them will come as a surprise; their vanity will be tickled and they will want more. Now make your letters frequent, in fact more frequent than your personal appearances. This will
give them the time and space to idealize you, which would be more difficult if you were always in their face. After they have fallen under your spell, you can always take a step back, making the letters fewer—let them think you are losing interest and they will be hungry for more.
Design your letters as homages to your targets. Make everything you write come back to them, as if they were all you could think about—a
delirious effect. If you tell an anecdote, make it somehow relate to them. Your correspondence is a kind of mirror you are holding up to them—they get to see themselves reflected through your desire. If for some reason they do not like you, write to them as if they did. Remember: the tone of your
letters is what will get under their skin. If your language is elevated, poetic, creative in its praise, it will infect them despite themselves. Never argue,
never defend yourself, never accuse them of being heartless. That would ruin the spell.
A letter can suggest emotion by seeming disordered, rambling from one subject to another. Clearly it is hard for you to think; your love has unhinged you. Disordered thoughts are exciting thoughts. Do not waste
time on real information; focus on feelings and sensations, using
expressions that are ripe with connotation. Plant ideas by dropping hints, writing suggestively without explaining yourself. Never lecture, never seem intellectual or superior—you will only make yourself pompous, which is deadly. Far better to speak colloquially, though with a poetic edge to lift the language above the commonplace. Do not become sentimental—it is tiring, and too direct. Better to suggest the effect your target has on you than to gush about how you feel. Stay vague and ambiguous, allowing the reader
the space to imagine and fantasize. The goal of your writing is not to
express yourself but to create emotion in the reader, spreading confusion and desire.
ANTONY: Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; \ I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. \ The evil that men do lives after them; \ The good is oft interred with their bones. \ So let it be with Caesar \ I speak not to disprove what
Brutus spoke, \ But here I am to speak what I do know. \ You all did love him once, not without cause. \ What cause withholds you then to mourn for him? \ O judgment, thou art fled to brutish
beasts, \ And men have lost their reason! Bear with me. \ My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, \ And I must pause till it come back to me. \
PLEBEIAN: Poor soul! his eyes are red as fire with weeping. \ PLEBEIAN: There’s not a nobler man in Rome than Antony. \ PLEBEIAN: Now
mark him. He begins again to speak. \ ANTONY : But yesterday the word of Caesar might \ Have stood against the world. Now lies he there, \ And
none so poor to do him reverence. \ O masters! If I were disposed to stir \ Your hearts and minds to
mutiny and rage, \ I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong, \ Who, you all know, are honorable men. \ I will not do them wrong. \ But here’s a
parchment with the seal of Caesar. \ I found it in
his closet; ‘tis his will. \ Let but the commons hear this testament, \ Which (pardon me) I do not mean to read, \ And they would go and kiss dead
Caesar’s wounds \ And dip their napkins in his
sacred blood. \ PLEBEIAN: We’ll hear the will!
Read it, Mark Antony. \ ALL: The will, the will! We will hear Caesar’s will! \ ANTONY: Have patience, gentle friends; I must not read it. \ It is not meet you know how Caesar loved you. \ You are not wood, you are not stones, but men; \ And being men, hearing the will of Caesar, \ It will inflame you, it will make you mad. \ ‘Tis good you know not that you are his heirs; \ For if you should, O, what would come of it? \ If you have tears,
prepare to shed them now. \ You all do know this mantle. I remember \ The first time ever Caesar put it on. \ Look, in this place ran Cassius’
dagger through.\ See what a rent the envious Casca made. \ Through this the well- beloved Brutus stabbed;\ And as he plucked his cursed steel away, \ Mark how the blood of Caesar followed it. \ For Brutus, as you know, was
Caesar’s angel. \ Judge,O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him! \ This was the most unkindest cut of all; \ For when the noble Caesar saw him
stab, \ Ingratitude, more strong than traitors’ arms,
\ Quite vanquished him. \ O, now you weep,
and I perceive you feel \ The dint of pity. These are gracious drops. \ Kind souls, what weep you when you but behold \ Our Caesar’s vesture wounded?
Look you here! \ Here is himself, marred as you see with traitors.
—WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, JULIUS CAESAR
You will know that your letters are having the proper effect when your targets come to mirror your thoughts, repeating words you wrote, whether in their own letters or in person. This is the time to move to the more physical and erotic. Use language that quivers with sexual connotation, or, better still, suggest sexuality by making your letters shorter, more frequent, and even more disordered than before. There is nothing more erotic than the short abrupt note. Your thoughts are unfinished; they can only be completed by the other person.
Sganarelle to Don Juan: Well, what I have to say is
. . . I don’t know what to say; for you turn things in such a manner with your words, that it seems that you are right; and yet, the truth of it is, you are not. I had the finest thoughts in the world, and
your words have totally scrambled them up.
—MOLIÈRE
Keys to Seduction
We rarely think before we talk. It is human nature to say the first thing that comes into our head—and usually what comes first is something about ourselves. We primarily use words to express our own feelings, ideas, and opinions. (Also to complain and to argue.) This is because we are generally self-absorbed—the person who interests us most is our own self. To a certain extent this is inevitable, and through much of our lives there is nothing much wrong with it; we can function quite well this way. In seduction, however, it limits our potential.
You cannot seduce without an ability to get outside your own skin and inside another person’s, piercing their psychology. The key to seductive
language is not the words you utter, or your seductive tone of voice; it is a radical shift in perspective and habit. You have to stop saying the first thing that comes to your mind—you have to control the urge to prattle and vent your opinions. The key is to see words as a tool not for communicating true thoughts and feelings but for confusing, delighting, and intoxicating.
The difference between normal language and seductive language is like the difference between noise and music. Noise is a constant in modern life, something irritating we tune out if we can. Our normal language is like
noise—people may half-listen to us as we go on about ourselves, but just as often their thoughts are a million miles away. Every now and then their ears prick up when something we say touches on them, but this lasts only until we return to yet another story about ourselves. As early as childhood we learn to tune out this kind of noise (particularly when it comes from our parents).
Music, on the other hand, is seductive, and gets under our skin. It is intended for pleasure. A melody or rhythm stays in our blood for days after we have heard it, altering our moods and emotions, relaxing or exciting us. To make music instead of noise, you must say things that please—things that relate to people’s lives, that touch their vanity. If they have many problems, you can produce the same effect by distracting them, focusing their attention away from themselves by saying things that are witty and entertaining, or that make the future seem bright and hopeful. Promises and flattery are music to anyone’s ears. This is language designed to move
people and lower their resistance. It is language designed for them, not directed at them.
The Italian writer Gabriele D’Annunzio was physically unattractive, yet women could not resist him. Even those who knew of his Don Juan reputation and disliked him for it (the actress Eleanora Duse and the dancer Isadora Duncan, for instance) fell under his spell. The secret was the flow of words in which he enveloped a woman. His voice was musical, his
language poetic, and most devastating of all, he knew how to flatter. His flattery was aimed precisely at a woman’s weaknesses, the areas where she needed validation. A woman was beautiful, yet lacked confidence in her own wit and intelligence? He made sure to say that he was bewitched not by her beauty but by her mind. He might compare her to a heroine of
literature, or to a carefully chosen mythological figure. Talking to him, her ego would double in size.
Flattery is seductive language in its purest form. Its purpose is not to
express a truth or a real feeling, but only to create an effect on the recipient. Like D’Annunzio, learn to aim your flattery directly at a person’s insecurities. For instance, if a man is a fine actor and feels confident about his professional skills, to flatter him about his acting will have little effect, and may even accomplish the opposite—he could feel that he is above the need to have his ego stroked, and your flattery will seem to say otherwise. But let us say that this actor is an amateur musician or painter. He does this work on his own, without professional support or publicity, and he is well
aware that others make their living at it. Flattery of his artistic pretensions will go straight to his head and earn you double points. Learn to sniff out the parts of a person’s ego that need validation. Make it a surprise, something no one else has thought to flatter before—something you can describe as a talent or positive quality that others have not noticed. Speak with a little tremor, as if your target’s charms had overwhelmed you and made you emotional.
Flattery can be a kind of verbal foreplay. Aphrodite’s powers of seduction, which were said to come from the magnificent girdle she wore, involved a sweetness of language—a skill with the soft, flattering words that prepare the way for erotic thoughts. Insecurities and nagging self-
doubts have a dampening effect on the libido. Make your targets feel secure and alluring through your flattering words and their resistance will melt away.
Sometimes the most pleasant thing to hear is the promise of something wonderful, a vague but rosy future that is just around the corner. President Franklin Delano Roosevelt, in his public speeches, talked little about
specific programs for dealing with the Depression; instead he used rousing rhetoric to paint a picture of America’s glorious future. In the various
legends of Don Juan, the great seducer would immediately focus women’s attention on the future, a fantastic world to which he promised to whisk them off. Tailor your sweet words to your targets’ particular problems and fantasies. Promise something realizable, something possible, but do not
make it too specific; you are inviting them to dream. If they are mired in dull routine, talk of adventure, preferably with you. Do not discuss how it
will be accomplished; speak as if it magically already existed, somewhere in the future. Lift people’s thoughts into the clouds and they will relax, their defenses will come down, and it will be that much easier to maneuver and lead them astray. Your words become a kind of elevating drug.
The most anti-seductive form of language is argument. How many silent enemies do we create by arguing? There is a superior way to get people to listen and be persuaded: humor and a light touch. The nineteenth-century English politician Benjamin Disraeli was a master at this game. In Parliament, to fail to reply to an accusation or slanderous comment was a deadly mistake: silence meant the accuser was right. Yet to respond angrily, to get into an argument, was to look ugly and defensive. Disraeli used a different tactic: he stayed calm. When the time came to reply to an attack, he would slowly make his way to the speaker’s table, pause, then utter a
humorous or sarcastic retort. Everyone would laugh. Now that he had warmed people up, he would proceed to refute his enemy, still mixing in amusing comments; or perhaps he would simply move on to another subject, as if he were above it all. His humor took out the sting of any attack on him. Laughter and applause have a domino effect: once your listeners
have laughed, they are more likely to laugh again. In this lighthearted mood they are also more apt to listen. A subtle touch and a bit of irony give you room to persuade them, move them to your side, mock your enemies. That
is the seductive form of argument.
Shortly after the murder of Julius Caesar, the head of the band of
conspirators who had killed him, Brutus, addressed an angry mob. He tried to reason with the crowd, explaining that he had wanted to save the Roman Republic from dictatorship. The people were momentarily convinced—yes, Brutus seemed a decent man. Then Mark Antony took the stage, and he in turn delivered a eulogy for Caesar. He seemed overwhelmed with emotion. He talked of his love for Caesar, and of Caesar’s love for the Roman people. He mentioned Caesar’s will; the crowd clamored to hear it, but Antony said no, for if he read it they would know how deeply Caesar had loved them, and how dastardly this murder was. The crowd again insisted
he read the will; instead he held up Caesar’s bloodstained cloak, noting its rents and tears. This was where Brutus had stabbed the great general, he said; Cassius had stabbed him here. Then finally he read the will, which told how much wealth Caesar had left to the Roman people. This was the
coup de grâce—the crowd turned against the conspirators and went off to lynch them.
Antony was a clever man, who knew how to stir a crowd. According to
the Greek historian Plutarch, “When he saw that his oratory had cast a spell over the people and that they were deeply stirred by his words, he began to introduce into his praises [of Caesar] a note of pity and of indignation at Caesar’s fate.” Seductive language aims at people’s emotions, for emotional people are easier to deceive. Antony used various devices to stir the crowd: a tremor in his voice, a distraught and then an angry tone. An emotional
voice has an immediate, contagious effect on the listener. Antony also teased the crowd with the will, holding off the reading of it to the end, knowing it would push people over the edge. Holding up the cloak, he made his imagery visceral.
Perhaps you are not trying to whip a crowd into a frenzy; you just want to bring people over to your side. Choose your strategy and words carefully.
You might think it is better to reason with people, explain your ideas. But it is hard for an audience to decide whether an argument is reasonable as they listen to you talk. They have to concentrate and listen closely, which
requires great effort. People are easily distracted by other stimuli, and if they miss a part of your argument, they will feel confused, intellectually inferior, and vaguely insecure. It is more persuasive to appeal to people’s
hearts than their heads. Everyone shares emotions, and no one feels inferior to a speaker who stirs up their feelings. The crowd bonds together, everyone contagiously experiencing the same emotions. Antony talked of Caesar as if he and the listeners were experiencing the murder from Caesar’s point of
view. What could be more provocative? Use such changes of perspective to make your listeners feel what you are saying. Orchestrate your effects. It is more effective to move from one emotion to another than to just hit one note. The contrast between Antony’s affection for Caesar and his indignation at the murderers was much more powerful than if he had stayed with one feeling or the other.
The emotions you are trying to arouse should be strong ones. Do not speak of friendship and disagreement; speak of love and hate. And it is crucial to try to feel something of the emotions you are trying to elicit. You will be more believable that way. This should not be difficult: imagine the reasons for loving or hating before you speak. If necessary, think of
something from your past that fills you with rage. Emotions are contagious; it is easier to make someone cry if you are crying yourself. Make your voice an instrument, and train it to communicate emotion. Learn to seem sincere. Napoleon studied the greatest actors of his time, and when he was alone he would practice putting emotion into his voice.
The goal of seductive speech is often to create a kind of hypnosis: you are distracting people, lowering their defenses, making them more
vulnerable to suggestion. Learn the hypnotist’s lessons of repetition and affirmation, key elements in putting a subject to sleep. Repetition involves using the same words over and over, preferably a word with emotional content: “taxes,” “liberals,” “bigots.” The effect is mesmerizing—ideas can be permanently implanted in people’s unconscious simply by being repeated often enough. Affirmation is simply the making of strong positive statements, like the hypnotist’s commands. Seductive language should have a kind of boldness, which will cover up a multitude of sins. Your audience will be so caught up in your bold language that they won’t have time to reflect on whether or not it is true. Never say “I don’t think the other side made a wise decision”; say “We deserve better,” or “They have made a
mess of things.” Affirmative language is active language, full of verbs, imperatives, and short sentences. Cut out “I believe,” “Perhaps,” “In my opinion.” Head straight for the heart.
You are learning to speak a different kind of language. Most people employ symbolic language—their words stand for something real, the feelings, ideas, and beliefs they really have. Or they stand for concrete
things in the real world. (The origin of the word “symbolic” lies in a Greek word meaning “to bring things together”—in this case, a word and something real.) As a seducer you are using the opposite: diabolic language. Your words do not stand for anything real; their sound, and the feelings they evoke, are more important than what they are supposed to stand for. (The word “diabolic” ultimately means to separate, to throw things apart—here, words and reality.) The more you make people focus on your sweet- sounding language, and on the illusions and fantasies it conjures, the more you diminish their contact with reality. You lead them into the clouds,
where it is hard to distinguish truth from untruth, real from unreal. Keep your words vague and ambiguous, so people are never quite sure what you mean. Envelop them in demonic, diabolical language and they will not be
able to focus on your maneuvers, on the possible consequences of your seduction. And the more they lose themselves in illusion, the easier it will be to lead them astray and seduce them.
Symbol: The Clouds. In the clouds it is hard to see the exact forms of things. Everything seems vague; the imagination runs wild, seeing things that are not there. Your words must lift people into the clouds, where it is easy for them to lose their way.
Reversal
Do not confuse flowery language with seduction: in using flowery language you run the risk of wearing on people’s nerves, of seeming pretentious.
Excess verbiage is a sign of selfishness, of your inability to rein in your natural tendencies. Often with language, less is more; the elusive, vague,
ambiguous phrase leaves the listener more room for imagination than does a sentence full of bombast and self-indulgence.
You must always think first of your targets, and of what will be pleasant to their ears. There will be many times when silence is best. What you do not say can be suggestive and eloquent, making you seem mysterious. In
the eleventh-century Japanese court diary The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon, the counselor Yoshichika is intrigued by a lady he sees in a carriage, silent and beautiful. He sends her a note, and she sends one back; he is the only
one to read it, but by his reaction everyone can tell it is in bad taste, or badly written. It spoils the effect of her beauty. Shonagon writes, “I have heard people suggest that no reply at all is better than a bad one.” If you are not eloquent, if you cannot master seductive language, at least learn to curb your tongue—use silence to cultivate an enigmatic presence.
Finally, seduction has a pace and rhythm. In phase one, you are cautious and indirect. It is often best to disguise your intentions, to put your target at ease with deliberately neutral words. Your conversation should be harmless, even a bit bland. In this second phase, you turn more to the attack; this is
the time for seductive language. Now when you envelop them in your
seductive words and letters, it comes as a pleasant surprise. It gives them
the immensely pleasing feeling that they are the ones to suddenly inspire you with such poetry and intoxicating words.
