A theme of the age, at least in the developed world, is that people crave silence and can find none. The roar of traffic, the ceaseless beep of phones, digital announcements in buses and trains, TV sets blaring even in empty offices, are an endless battery and distraction. The human race is exhausting itself with noise and longs for its opposite—whether in the wilds, on the wide ocean or in some retreat dedicated to stillness and concentration. Alain Corbin, a history professor, writes from his refuge in the Sorbonne, and Erling Kagge, a Norwegian explorer, from his memories of the wastes of Antarctica, where both have tried to escape.
And yet, as Mr Corbin points out in "A History of Silence", there is probably no more noise than there used to be. Before pneumatic tyres, city streets were full of the deafening clang of metal-rimmed wheels and horseshoes on stone. Before voluntary isolation on mobile phones, buses and trains rang with conversation. Newspaper-sellers did not leave their wares in a mute pile, but advertised them at top volume, as did vendors of cherries, violets and fresh mackerel. The theatre and the opera were a chaos of huzzahs and barracking. Even in the countryside, peasants sang as they drudged. They don’t sing now.
What has changed is not so much the level of noise, which previous centuries also complained about, but the level of distraction, which occupies the space that silence might invade. There looms another paradox, because when it does invade—in the depths of a pine forest, in the naked desert, in a suddenly vacated room—it often proves unnerving rather than welcome. Dread creeps in; the ear instinctively fastens on anything, whether fire-hiss or bird call or susurrus of leaves, that will save it from this unknown emptiness. People want silence, but not that much. | Suġġett kurrenti, tal-inqas fid-dinja żviluppata, hu li n-nies hi mxennqa mis-silenzju però ma tistax issibu. Il-ħoss qawwi tat-traffiku, id-daqq bla waqfien tal-telefon, avviżi diġitali fil-karozzi tal-linja u trejns, settijiet tat-televiżjoni anki f’uffiċji vojta, huma batteriji u aljenazzjoni li ma jieqfu qatt. Il-bniedem qed jeżawrixxi ruħu bl-istorbju u qed jixxennaq għal oppost – sew jekk fir-reġjuni remoti kif ukoll jekk fil-baħar oċean jew f’xi post imbiegħed apposta għal kwiet u konċentrazzjoni. Alain Corbin, professur tal-istorja, jikteb mir-refuġju tiegħu ġos-Sorbonne, u Erling Kagge, esploratur Norveġiż, mill-memorji tiegħu tal-art mhux maħduma tal-antartika fejn it-tnejn li huma ppruvaw jaħarbu. U minkejja dan, kif propju Corbin jindika ġo “Storja ta’ Silenzju”, probabbli m’hemmx iktar storbju milli kien ikun hemm qabel. Qabel tajers pnewmatiċi, it-toroq tal-ibliet kienu mimlija bil-ħoss metalliku li jtarrxek tar-roti bir-rimm tal-metall u ngħal fuq il-ġebel. Qabel iżolament volontarju bil-mobajls, karozzi tal-linja u trejns kienu jdamdmu bil-konversazzjoni. Il-bejjiegħa tal-gazzetti ma kinux iħallu l-oġġetti għal bejgħ tagħhom mazz kwiet imma kienu jxandruhom bl-iktar leħen għoli eżatt bħal bejjiegħa taċ-ċirasa, pjanti kulur vjola u kavalli friski. It-teatru u l-opera kienu kaos sħiħ bl- evviva u ċapċip storbuż. Anki fil-kampanja, ir-raħħala kantaw waqt li strapazzaw ruħhom. Imma issa ma jkantawx iżjed! Ma nbidilx daqstant il-livell tal-ħoss li kienu jgergru għalih sekli qabel imma l-livell t’aljenazzjoni li jokkupa l-ispazju li s-silenzju jista’ jinvadi. U paradossa oħra tfaċċat fuq l-orizzont għax meta jinvadi - qalb il-foresta tal-prinjoli, ġo deżert għeri, ġo kamra li tbattlet f’daqqa -ta’ spiss tħossu jneħħilek il-kuraġġ minflokk ikollok aptit tagħtih merħba. Tkexkix jaqbdek; il-widna istintivament tiggranfa ma’ xi ħaġa sew jekk ikun iz-zekzik tan-nar jew għajta ta’ xi għasfur jew sussurru ta’ weraq li jsalvaha minn dan il-vojt mhux magħruf. In-nies iridu s-silenzju imma mhux daqstant. |