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. | Tema ta' dawn iż-żminijiet, tal-inqas f'dinja żviluppata, hija l-karba tan-nies għall-kwiet li ma jista' jsib imkien. L-istorjbu tat-traffiku, iċ-ċempil bla waqfien tat-telefons, it-tħabbir diġitali fil-karozzi tal-linja u trenijiet, settijiet ta' televiżjoni mixgħula anke f'uffiċini vojta, huma ta' batterija u distrazzjoni li ma tieqaf qatt. Ir-razza umana qed teżawrixxi ruħha bl-istorbju u tinsab imxenqa għall-oppost - jekk hux fis-salvaġġ, f'oċean wiesa' jew f'xi kenn fejn hemm il-kalma u l-konċentrazzjoni. Alain Corbin, professur tal-Istorja, jikteb mir-refuġju tiegħu ġewwa Sorbonne, u Erling Kagge, esploratur Norveġiż, mit-tifkiriet tiegħu fil-wesgħat tal-Antartika, fejn it-tnejn li huma pprovuw jaħarbu. Madankollu, kif is-Sur Corbin juri f'"A History of Silence", probabbilment m'hemmx aktar storbju minn qabel. Qabel it-tajers pnewmatiċi, it-toroq tal-ibliet kienu mimlijin mill-ħsejjes tarraxa tar-rimmijiet tal-ħadid tar-roti u n-nagħal taż-żwiemel fuq il-ġebel. Qabel l-iżolament volontarju tal-mowbajls, karozzi tal-linja u trenijiet iċemplu bil-konversazzjoni. Il-bejjiegħa tal-gazzetti ma kinux iħallu l-imkejjen tagħhom fil-kwiet, imma kienu jgħajtu biex jirreklamaw ruħhom bl-aktar vuċi għolja, l-istess kif kienu jagħmlu l-bejjiegħa taċ-ċirasa, tal-fjuri u tal-makkarell frisk. It-teatri u l-opera kienu kaos ta' storbju. Anke fil-kampanja, ir-raħħala kienu jgħannu tul il-ħidma tagħhom. Illum m'għadhomx jgħannu. Li nbidel mhux essaġġ il-livell ta' storbju, li s-sekli li għaddew ukoll gergru fuqu, imma l-livell ta' distruzzjoni, li jokkupa l-ispazju li s-silenzju jista' jinvadi. Hawnhekk insibu paradoss ieħor, għaliex meta s-silenzju jinvadi- ġewwa l-qalba tal-foresta, fid-deżert għarwien, f'kamra li svutjat - aktarx li joħloq ostilita' milli jagħti merħba.Jidħol il-waħx, il-widnejn instintivament issir aktar sensittiva, kemm għal tpespisa ta' għasfur jew it-tħaxwix tal-weraq, li jokkuppaw mill-baħħ misterjuż. In-nies iridu s-silenzju, imma mhux daqstant. |