THE AWKWARD EYES

The look-and-away stare is reminiscent of the problem

we face in adolescence in terms of our hands. What do we

do with them? Where do we hold them? Amateur actors

are also made conscious of this. They are suddenly aware

of their hands as awkward appendages that must somehow

be used gracefully and naturally.

In the same way, in certain circumstances, we become

aware of our glances as awkward appendages. Where

shall we look? What shall we do with our eyes?

Two strangers seated across from each other in a railway

dining-car have the option of introducing themselves

and facing a meal of inconsequential and perhaps boring

talk, or ignoring each other and desperately trying to

avoid each other's glance. Cornelia Otis Skinner, describing

such a situation in an essay, wrote, 'They reread

the menu, they fool with the cutlery, they inspect

their own fingernails as if seeing them for the first time.

Comes the inevitable moment when glances meet, but

they meet only to shoot instantly away and out the

window for an intent view of the passing scene.'

This same awkward eye dictates our looking behaviour

in elevators and crowded buses and subway trains. When 

we get on an elevator or train with a crowd we look briefly
and then look away at once without locking glances.
We say, with our look,' I see you. I do not know

you, but you are a human and I will not stare at you.'

In the subway or bus where long rides in very close

circumstances are a necessity, we may be hard put to

find some way of not staring. We sneak glances, but look

away before our eyes can lock. Or we look with an unfocused

glance that misses the eyes and settles on the head,

the mouth, the body - for any place but the eyes is an

acceptable looking spot for the unfocused glance.

If our eyes do meet we can sometimes mitigate the

message with a brief smile. The smile must not be too

long or too obvious. It must say, 'I am sorry we have

looked, but we both know it was an accident.'