“There are all kinds of silences and each of them means a different thing. There is the silence that comes with morning in a forest, and this is different from the silence of a sleeping city. There is silence after a rainstorm, and before a rainstorm, and these are not the same. There is the silence of emptiness, the silence of fear, the silence of doubt. There is a certain silence that can emanate from a lifeless object as from a chair lately used, or from a piano with old dust upon its keys, or from anything that has answered to the need of a man, for pleasure or for work. This kind of silence can speak. Its voice may be melancholy, but it is not always so; for the chair may have been left by a laughing child or the last notes of the piano may have been raucous and gay. Whatever the mood or the circumstance, the essence of its quality may linger in the silence that follows. It is a soundless echo.”
Beryl Markham, West with the Night
Probably one of the longer quotes I've ever used, but I love explorations of silence.
I love the silence of a sleeping city. As a teenaged Uni student I moved to Australia's largest city to study. It was big and fast and grotty and noisy; but at about 2am or 3am on a week-night; if you wandered along the city streets and by the harbour, the city was almost silent and oh so beautiful. I thought it was at its best at those moments.
I am very fond of the quiet, gentle silences; but this quote made me think bout the fear that can be in other silences; how silence can actually take many forms some of which are beautiful; and some of which are more sinister. Some silences feel friendly, welcoming and enveloping; others remain mysterious.
I loved too the notion of a soundless echo - the mood or circumstance of the element before it fell silent; how delightful that it does not have to be melancholy; but can recall the joy and laughter and gaiety that was a precursor to its silence. But also a house or room can feel very silent after the death of somebody and that silence is different again.
To observe the many silences and try to understand them, sounds like a fascinating journey one could take…
I recall the silence as our bamboo bottomed boat glided effortlessly along these waters and between the mountains in the water in Vietnam...
Beryl Markham, West with the Night
Probably one of the longer quotes I've ever used, but I love explorations of silence.
I love the silence of a sleeping city. As a teenaged Uni student I moved to Australia's largest city to study. It was big and fast and grotty and noisy; but at about 2am or 3am on a week-night; if you wandered along the city streets and by the harbour, the city was almost silent and oh so beautiful. I thought it was at its best at those moments.
I am very fond of the quiet, gentle silences; but this quote made me think bout the fear that can be in other silences; how silence can actually take many forms some of which are beautiful; and some of which are more sinister. Some silences feel friendly, welcoming and enveloping; others remain mysterious.
I loved too the notion of a soundless echo - the mood or circumstance of the element before it fell silent; how delightful that it does not have to be melancholy; but can recall the joy and laughter and gaiety that was a precursor to its silence. But also a house or room can feel very silent after the death of somebody and that silence is different again.
To observe the many silences and try to understand them, sounds like a fascinating journey one could take…
I recall the silence as our bamboo bottomed boat glided effortlessly along these waters and between the mountains in the water in Vietnam...
I love this quote. Have you read the book? Martin and I read it this Christmas and thoroughly enjoyed it. How wonderful to experience the beauty and silence of the mountains in Vietnam. I love the silence before dawn. Not so much the silence and darkest of slate skies just before a storm because one is never too sure what damage it will cause.
ReplyDeleteI haven't read the book Robyn, but it seems fascinating and the words sublime. The silence before dawn for us seems often not silent - so many birds - but it is a sort of silence of the soul and spirit I think. The silence before a storm is unnerving, as is the silence after a crack of thunder. Go well, and experience silence...
DeleteLove this... I've often thought and really FELT/heard the silent echos in empty chairs, quiet instruments, etc. Intrigued and will go look at the book. Wonderful image and evoked image of gliding in a bamboo boat through that scene.
ReplyDeleteIt's quite interesting isn't it Valerianna that you can feel silence, and it can feel heavy sometimes….
DeleteI read this book many many years ago when I used to speed read things so I certainly would not have registered this quote. Might have to search for it on the shelves to see if I still have it and give it another airing. I suffer with such atrocious tinnitus than I can never have silence. Every experience is peppered with the noise of 'radio tuning' going on inside my head and whilst I can tune it down I can never tune it out so whilst I love the solitude, I'll never get the silence described here. Will have to imagine it via the printed word!
ReplyDeleteMy goodness Lesley - that must be so constant in your life, always hearing something and trying to work your way out into the world from behind it. It's probably hard to imagine silence with tinnutus, but maybe the sense of it can come thru? Solitude goes close I think...
DeleteI live here in the inner city of Sydney and that 2am--5am itime is when I get my best work done whilst the rest of the city sleeps, no planes overhead, no cars roaring past, no people's thoughts clambering it's silent as it can get here... however there is the odd sound, the occasional rustle from some nameless creature living in the walls of this very old crumblng house can be disturbing... or the odd shot in the dark on Monday morning (no it wasn't a car backfiring) followed by the sound of the siren's scream a few minutes later...
ReplyDeletethe siren soon after...
They are the best city moments aren't they Mo?!? But cities find it oh so hard to really sleep. we too have the odd creature that we hear rustling away inside and I must say at 2.30am in the morning it can seem noisy. I often think the silence that follows hearing an unusual sound in the dark of night can be one of the most potent silences - waiting to hear another sound, you almost wish noise onto the silence, or something like that...
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