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Silence: I just love it. Perhaps not quite enough to have you wake me up for it, but it's close. I can be as lively as the next guy, but that's only temporary. The best moments are when all the hustle and bustle has died down, I heave a heartfelt sigh and silence sets in, as in dead silence. Which is not to say that I understand why after conversing using a mobile telephone in the presence of unknown third parties, ordinary conversation on board public transport is now being put up for discussion.* For years I have been wrestling with the customary perception that making mobile telephone calls in public amenities indoors is "not the done thing". Life is getting so confusing: urinating is something that is not done in public but has to be taken inside, whereas conversation has to take place indoors except when using a mobile phone in a public facility, when outside is the only appropriate place. My standard defence, viz. that where people are engaged in conversation, sensibleness should be the standard to apply in setting the volume - and why should this be any different when someone is rabbiting on into the mouthpiece of a telephone? - is now being bandied about as supporting evidence against my cautious preconception, if I can rely, that is, on the socio-perspectivist powers of those in whose opinion reading is best promoted by thwarting speech. I'm not sure whether it helps when I tell you that I always buy two or three books in anticipation of any lengthy train journey, that I get very worked up about those tiny fashionable walkman headsets that emit a non-stop high-frequency squealing noise if you're out of luck, and that I once forgot to take offence due to feeling exceptionally sorry for the poor American who during a five-hour train journey to Paris our of sheer politeness sat and listened to the incessant English-modulated stand-up-like conversation of his Dutch neighbour across the aisle, to the point where he in fact mustered up what strength he had left to thank the man for taking such an interest in him. And yet I cannot seem to get used to the fact that my findings are evidently representative of the cultural elite. It wouldn't be a problem if I were the only person to adopt an intolerant stance. This can only mean that it's not me, it's everyone else, they should stop and think, scratch their heads, take several long hard looks at themselves, engage in a spot of soul searching. As long as I make no demands when buying a train ticket, I can think what I like, but if the rest of the book buying part of the nation evidently feel justified, at organised and subsidised level, to ordain that talking out loud while on board a train is something that should be banned, the time has come for me to be vociferously mortified. * Report in Het Parool of 11 March 2003 on the affixing inside train carriages of stickers bearing the legend "Time for a Read", in the context of the Annual Book Week, with the aim of counteracting conversation on public transport in favour of an undisturbed read. |