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. | 至少在发达国家,存在着这样一个时代的主题,即人们渴望宁静,却得不到。交通的轰鸣,电话不停的嘟嘟声,公共汽车和火车上的数字广播,甚至空荡荡的办公室里的电视机,都是无尽的折磨和干扰。人类被喧嚣搞得筋疲力尽,从而渴望宁静——无论是在野外,广阔的海洋还是在一些专注于宁静和集中的静修中。从历史学教授阿兰•科宾在索邦大学避难所的作品和挪威探险家埃琳•卡格对南极洲荒野的回忆中可以看出,两人都在试图逃离。 然而,正如科尔宾先生在“沉默的历史”中指出的那样,过去的岁月可能比现在更加嘈杂。在充气轮胎出现之前,城市街道充满了金属镶边车轮和石头上的马蹄铁的震耳欲聋的铿锵声。在自愿隔离手机之前,公共汽车和火车充满着对话声。卖报者并没有把他们的报纸安静地堆放起来,而是以最高的声音叫卖它们,樱桃、紫罗兰和新鲜鲭鱼的卖家也是如此。剧院和歌剧也充斥着喝彩声和助威声。即使在农村,农民们也会在做苦工时唱歌。他们现在不唱歌了。 改变的不是前几个世纪也抱怨的噪音水平,而是干扰的程度,它占据了原本可能宁静的空间。另一个悖论隐约呈现,因为当它侵入松林的深处,裸露的沙漠中,一个突然腾空的房间时——它常常被证明令人不安且不受欢迎。恐惧蔓延;耳朵本能地集中于任何东西上,无论是火焰嘶嘶声、鸟叫声还是叶子的沙沙声,都可以将它从这个未知的空虚中拯救出来。人们想要宁静,但却得不到那么多宁静。 |