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. | Mowduuca da’da, ugu yaraan caalamka hormaray, waa dadkaas raadinayo aamusnaanta oo aan waxba heli karin. Guuxa baabuurta, biibta joogtada ah ee taleefonada, ogeysiimada casriga ah ee basaska iyo tareenada, qeybaha telefeshinka ee ka qeylinayo xittaa xafiisyo ebar ah, waa xadgudub iyo carqalad aan dhammaaneyn. Jinsiyada aadanaha way isku daalinayaan buuqa iyo muddooyin dheer oo ka soo horjeedkeeda ah—ha ahaato mid xun, ee badda balaaran ama qaar ka mid ah dib u gurashada loogu tallogalay xasiloonida iyo diirad saarida. Alain Corbin, borofeesar taariiqyahan ah, wuxuu ka qoray magangalyadiisa Sorbonne, iyo Erling Kagge, sahmiye Noorweeyaan ah, xasuustiisa waqtiga kaga lumay Antarctica, halkaas oo labadoodaba ay isku dayeen inay ka baxsadaan. Iyo weli, sida Mudane Corbin ugu tilmaamay "Taariiqda Aamusnaanta", laga yaabo inaysan jirin qeylo ka badan sida ay halkaas ahaan jirtay. Ka hor intii aysan jirin taayarada aariyada, wadooyinka caasimada waxaa ka buuxay lugaha riimka biraha aan waxba laga maqleyn iyo kabaha fardaha dhagaxaanta garaacayo. Ka hor go’doominta iqtiyaarka ah ee mobeelada, basaska iyo tareenada way ka duwanyihiin wada sheekeysiga. Jaraa’idyada-iibiyayaasha maysan uga tagin alaabahaooda keyd aamusan, laakin waxay ku xayeysiiyay qiyam sare, sida ay sameeyeen iibiyayaasha miraha jeeris, dhirta gaduud xigeenka iyo kaluunka mackerel. Masraxa iyo hoolka waxay aheyd fowdo oohin iyo oorin dheer ah. Xittaa dhinaca gobolka, beeraleyda waxay heesaan iyaga oo shaqo ku jiro. Hadeer ma heesaan. Waxa isbadelay aad ugama badna heerka buuqa, taas oo qaraniyada hore sidoo kale looga sheegtay, laakin heerka carqaladeynta, taas oo ay qaadato booska aamusnaanta geli karto. Halkaas waxaa soo baxayo isbarbardhig, sababtoo ah markii ay soo gasho—qoto dheerida kaynta geedaha dheer, saxaraha banaan, qolka markaas laga guuray—waxay inta badan cadeysaa diidmo badelkii soo dhaweyn ah. Cabsida weyn; dareenka dhagta way dhuujiyaan wax walba, ha ahaado dhawaqa dabka ama wacitaanka shimbirta ama shanqarta caleemaha, ee ku keydinayo ebernaantaan aan lagaraneyn. Dadka waxay rabaan aamusnaan, laakin wax badan ma ahan. |