THE NOISY NEW ZEALANDER

Otago Witness, Issue 3315, 26 September 1917, Page 58

THE NOISY NEW ZEALANDER

By COXSTANCK CIrTDB.

The modern NfiW Zealunder is perhaps the noisiest of (civilised) human beings in the world. Is it because he has had too

much bush silence that he has lost that particular nerve which loathes hard and jarring sounds as much as evil smells? He has certainly lost it completely. We are accustomed to speak of London's babel of sound; but, proportionate to its size, London is far quieter than any of our- four chief towns. In London there are great pools of silence. In certain squares, for instance, there is often an almost icy stillness, though a murmurous noise round the borders, like waves on a shore, is more usual. Tho Londoner bails out sound as a shipwrecked mariner bails •water out of a leaky boat. Criers are ruled out of the better-class squares; the street hawker must not knock at the door; the barrel organ dare not play within many yards. And in those buildings, some of which are flats or apartment- houses, notice will be given p»y tenant who is unduly loud in his esits and entrances far more than for any other- reasons. The Londoner hates all- vocal disturbance, and has a Society S for the Abatement of Street Noises, just as he has others for the suppression of smoke, cats, various religions, and other people's societies. Coming to this favoured land, the English visitor is struck by the New Zealander's toleration of that which he con- " eiders should as a matter, of course be detested. All the cities and their little rocking houses seem to him vehicles of Bound. Wellington is richebt in a general .confusion of discords. Heard from the 'i near hills, those above Courtenay place, f" the town seems to be cracking and groan--1 ing like a captive in Auckland I has loud-sounding areas, but the city's noise is quickly intermingled wittf Nature's, which is not noise at all, but simply silence made decorative. Christchurch is perhaps the most offending city of all. Here the most exclusive : paTts are spoiled by some hundreds of mechanisms for pumping up water, known as' rams. Jifc performing this laudable action each rim lets off every sixth ' second or so a peculiar clahg that reaches a certain brain coll at the back of the head. Evidently, however, the New Zealander does not possess this peculiar brain at all, for though such mechanisms can be safely turned off at night this is seldom done except when one. is situated near a visiting Englishman, who makes a tour late at night and follows the trail till he finds the offending invention and remonstrates with its owner. And this owner, who notes the visitor's perturbation with mild wonder, will not credit ihat in London, if such mechanisms were used, they would be turned off every night regularly like the gas. The Municipal Council would be forced to this step. Dttnedin, of the chief cities, is the quietest. Possibly the rain deadens sound; certainly ifc is the place where Eeace will be proclaimed with most ppropriateness. The New Zealand child is an anomaly $n regard to his love of noise. His English prototype is noisy out of doors, but quiet within. His colonial cousin reverses this. Colonial children are seldom seen ■playing hi the open in the Tushing, roughen u-rcady way of Home youngsters. They do not dance, they do not have stand-up iSjhts. In the open he is all what Penrod objected to be called, ""a little gentleman." He is quiet and orderly. But within doors all is different. The home is his street. He rushes, he bangs, he shouts. In what English home of any decency would children shout from the foot of the stairs or mothers call back instead of coming to them? Such a practice is common here. "No children" is a frequent addition to boarding-house •advertisements in our papers. The colonial is impervioun to noise as a whole, but even he cannot stand the colonial child (within doors). It was Chesterton, one of our few English noise-lovers, who proclaimed that when he was dying., instead of murmur.vpie, like Goethe, "More light! Tvlore light!" he would expire murmuring "More noise! More noise!" He maintained that loud sounds were hated only because they were considered vulgar; and, Indeed, do we not use the word "loud" for colours that are too garish? But loud sounds were no more vulgar than was a bright light. So therefore he would murmur or shout (if he had breath] "More noise! More noise!" before quitting this earth. The average New Zealander doe 3 not, I think, , regard his demise in this ' Chestertonian way. Still he does speak and act as if not to love loud sounds were a sign of very feeble health indeed. The present writer has earned the reputation in Boarding-house Land of continually having a " headache," because the landlady cannot credit the fact that anyone can forbid loud shouting on the stairs short of its causing a. definite 4 pain somewhere. It is assumed, again, that one desires tho din moderated because one "wants to go to sleep,"' whereas one wants this because one desires to enjoy being awake. A noise-hater is not necessarily - a nerve-wrecked person; rather is he a healthy, aesthetic person who wants to enjoy ever and anon tho inner harmonies of utter silence. He can sleep through much din frequently enough; it is when he awakes that he asks for stillness and calm —to bathe in a pool of quietness which only a little ripple of soft voices and soft footfalls occasionally breaks. But where shall he find this ideal? Not in the New Zealand home, with its soundconducting walls, where child and adult are at their worst. He must go forth into the street, where they bohave somewhat better; or out i:ito the bush where 6yen the birds practise ideal of the great musician who, wfien isked what was the best music, answered **No music."