This reminds of the time my friend went to visit a Chinese philosopher for advice on one matter or another. He was widely known as having attained the utter limits of courtesy, neglecting neither punctilio nor geniality, displaying a sincere interest in his guests while meticulously caring for their comfort. Planning to show him at least as much kindness and politeness, she dressed her best and brought a Ming statuette that had belonged to her grandmother, which she knew fitted perfectly in his collection. She would not have it be said that her courtesy was any less than that of another.
He received her most cordially, performed all the necessary bows and compliments to perfection, asked her sincerely about her trip, &c. She for one assured him of the high regard in which she held his knowledge, praising his work and showing a real interest in it. He presented her the finest rice cookies his wife had baked that very day, waited for just the right amount of time before offering her more tea, and gave her the impression that her insights into his work were original and fascinating.
She actually enjoyed their conversation very much; so much so, that for a split second she picked up her cup but left the saucer on the table. She immediately realized her mistake and gracefully put the cup back; even though he didn’t seem to notice her lapse at all, she was forced to admit that his hospitality and politeness, on the other hand, had been impeccable.
Since the length of her visit was now nearing its proper limit, she considered it a fitting moment to give him the statuette. “My dear friend, it is about time that I should leave you to your musings. Oh, I nearly forgot: there is this trinket from my grandmother’s attic that I wish to give you; I do not know much about this kind of sculpture myself, so that I hope it will give you more joy than it could me.” He did not, of course, fall into the trap of refusing a gift: he accepted it with profuse thanks, while exuberantly expressing his admiration of it. She said it was nothing, thanked him most warmly for his willingness to receive her, and let him escort her to the door.
He told her what a pity it was that she couldn’t stay longer, how inspiring her ideas had been, and what joy it would bring him to soon receive her again - and yet, though he never so much as blinked, she had an intuitive feeling as though he had to admit that her courtesy had been greater than his. He performed the most elaborate bow possible that did not exceed the bounds of etiquette, handed her a basket of cookies, complimented her again on her philosophical theories, &c. She accepted all with the utmost gratitude, made him even more compliments, curtsied profusely, &c., &c.
Without another lapse of manners she reached the safety of the gate to the street. How wonderful that she should have won! He must surely be upset now that her courtesy had trumped his. She felt very good about herself. Then like lightning the idea struck her: he must have let her win on purpose. In so doing he had made her feel very good about herself, thereby ultimately being the most courteous one himself. She cursed herself for her own naivete.
Then again, he had caused her to curse herself: was that not a bad thing? Had she won after all? Pondering this infinite loop she left the village.
