Sounds familiar

In our rambling Victorian house the family can easily disappear and get out of earshot of one another. This presents a problem at meal times; so I bought an old school bell, which whoever is cooking rings vigorously when food is on the table. The clanging is harsh, penetrating, and effective, and it takes me straight back to my school days. For a time I was in charge of ringing the school bells, including one just like our dinner bell, to mark the end of break, lunch time, and other such vital junctures in the school day.

Unfortunately I have never been any good at time-awareness, so that despite being the proud owner of a new watch, I frequently missed the critical moment, and delayed the entire school routine by several minutes. Each time I hear the bell today I remember the cringing embarrassment of making everyone late for lunch.

Three questions spring to mind: first, can we really remember sounds from the past, or are they echoes of imagination? Second, can such sounds – like smells - produce Proustian rushes of memory, and take us back to childhood? Third, why are we now deafened by noise pollution? Radio 4 this week explores the idea that we remember sounds through nostalgic rose-tinted earphones.

Did Elvis, Buddy, and the Beatles really make much sweeter music that today’s pop idols? Perhaps it is just because I am getting old and slightly deaf, but I do not remember being maddened by environmental noise. Car alarms and house burglar alarms did not exist. There was no persistent roar of traffic, few aircraft overhead, no piped muzak in every public space, and never the infuriating interruptions of other people’s mobile phones. Today’s emergency vehicles emit a deafening screaming wail, and even trains are horribly noisy if you get too close to the ‘power car’, whereas I recall with delight the hissing puffing roar of the steam train coming to rest as it brought my dad home from London to Henley-on-Thames.

Nostalgic sound-tripping is fun. In my downstairs lavatory I have a Thomas Crapper high-flush suite, a faithful copy of one of the original designs of that splendid Victorian plumber and sanitary engineer. When as instructed I grasp the chain, pull and let go, I am rewarded with a wondrous thunderous flush that not only sweeps all before it but sweeps me straight back to my childhood.

Page last updated: Friday, 22 July 2005 22:35

Radio Times articles, from 2003-2005

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Sounds Familiar