Book note: 'The Noise: A Battle Cry Against the Sounds of Our Lives' by Theodor Lessing
I absolutely love rummaging through the Project Gutenberg Library, unearthing literary gems from bygone eras. Recently, I stumbled upon a fascinating historical document from 1908, penned by the writer and philosopher Theodor Lessing: “The Noise – A Battle Cry Against the Sounds of Our Lives”. Unfortunately, the book is only available in German language.
The term “Battle Cry” might sound a bit warlike at first. But who could have guessed back then, just six years before World War I, the weight this term would carry later on? Today, we’d probably describe Lessing’s work as an expression of bourgeois discontent. And that’s exactly how it comes across. This becomes clear right from the first sentence: “Monstrous unrest, horrific loudness weighs down all earthly life.”
Lessing’s battle against noise
Lessing doesn’t just tackle noise. He also wants to fight a deeply rooted inclination of the soul: the desire for unconsciousness and oblivion, our tendency towards anything that numbs or darkens our conscious knowledge.
“Everything that enters our ears invites us to immerse ourselves in foreign states of will and feeling,” he criticizes. “This particularly affects people who need to work in peace and concentrate hard. The more individual our work and lives are, the more we need focus, introspection, and self-preservation. Thus, the constant temptation to distraction and fragmentation by a loud, intrusive environment becomes all the more tormenting, embittering, and humiliating.” Clearly, he’s venting years of pent-up frustration here.
Buzzing, thundering, clattering, rustling: all nasty noises
For Lessing, the saying “Speech is silver, silence is golden” holds true. He believes that people can truly understand themselves only in silence and peace. “As soon as a person starts to speak, there’s surely someone among the listeners better able to understand the speaker than the speaker would like to understand themselves.” Yet noise drowns out everything.
In the middle part of the book, Lessing delves into various noises and what bothers him about them. He appreciates onomatopoeic word formations that capture the sound directly in the word, like buzzing, thundering, clattering, rustling, and squeaking. However, music, which he refers to as the “noble sister of noise”, doesn’t fare well either. “When a fashionista swishes by in high heels, all I hear is a specific creaking in high E.”
The new sounds of “portable machines”
Lessing believes many noises should simply be banned. From his time, this includes the cracking of whips and the whistling of steam engines. He also shows little tolerance for the “new sounds” of portable machines, such as trains, motorcycles, buses, and cars: “These are depopulation machines, belching like four-hundred-pound bruisers, coming across raw, in the deepest tone of satiation.”
He takes many pages to intricately describe the noise pollution from church bells, pets – “this noise is unbearable because it always reveals some suffering that one cannot alleviate or help” –, dogs, chickens, wildlife, as well as carpet and bedding beating. It’s all well-written and quite entertaining.
Laws against noise
But there has to be more to it. By the last third of the book, I’m wondering what turn this book will take next. Lessing now delves deep into the jurisprudence of the German Empire. For example, the penal code states that anyone causing loud, disturbing noise or committing gross mischief can be fined 150 marks. He thinks this is far too little. Using numerous laws and cases, he tries to bolster his point: noise must be legally prohibited.
This might only be of interest to legal historians today, but it shows: Lessing has done his homework and is serious about his cause. He brings many laws into play, but always comes back to the same disheartening conclusion: it’s hopeless, there’s nothing one can do.
To fight noise, you have to make noise
In the end, he writes resignedly: “To fight against noise, you have to make noise. To be heard in the general clamour and din, you have to be louder than the rest.” With that, he throws in the towel, raises his hands in surrender, and closes his book “without hope that it will do much good” – leaving his readers stranded in the noise of modernity.
So, what’s left after reading this book? The text is a bit unwieldy, but I appreciate this old writing style with its long, complex sentences that require intense engagement. However, Lessing leaves me with an unsatisfied feeling and the question: What now? I miss concrete tips on how to deal with noise. Lessing emphasizes the importance of peace and undisturbed work for thinking people and seeks solutions in legal changes, even though he sees the world becoming noisier.
The battle shifts from the external world to the inner world of loud thoughts
I imagine that in 1908, the streets weren’t as crowded with cars as they are today, and those cars were louder and rattled more. To me, the book reads like a pent-up rant against noise, without a magic formula to deal with it. I believe we live in far quieter times today. Electric cars and trains are quieter, cities and communities pay more attention to noise protection. But the noise in our heads has certainly become louder and more pervasive. It emanates from our headphones, consists of incessant thoughts, from the loud voices of people drowning out everything else. The noise pollution has thus shifted into our heads.
There were probably many more quiet places in 1908 than there are today. There were fewer people, the cities were smaller and surrounded by forests. For Lessing, the noise seemed inescapable; he felt persecuted. He could no longer use the noise as “white noise” and find peace within himself. That’s the challenge that hasn’t changed in over a hundred years: Only those who find inner peace can cope with the external noise.