This is one thing that I find fascinating when one spend time in a place is its relationship with noise, particularly at night. I grew up in Chicoutimi going to sleep (often very late) in a sleeping city. When I started living in Montreal, I could hear the traffic going down Christophe-Colomb non stop. At first I found it disturbing, then I found the noise strangely soothing, like it was a big cat constantly purring. Back in Chicoutimi for the holidays, I had difficulties sleeping as the steady sound of the night's traffic was not there. But Montreal, for a "big" city, is rather calm, in some places at least, at night. I am not sure I would have slept as soundly in London, a city I grew to dislike, partially because of the noise and the frantic beat that creates it. In Liverpool, I could live it, then go home and prepare classes, mark, read and sleep in quiet, peaceful suburbia. The Victorian house I was living in got me used to silence at night, real silence. There is nothing like reading a horror story in a quiet town or village at night. It is a deliciously frightening experience. I would ideally read my crime fiction in a city where I can hear the noisy outside world.
Blogue d'un québécois expatrié en Angleterre. Comme toute forme d'autobiographie est constituée d'une large part de fiction, j'ai décidé de nommer le blogue Vraie Fiction.
Tuesday, 12 April 2011
Musing on city, countryside, noise and silence
This is one thing that I find fascinating when one spend time in a place is its relationship with noise, particularly at night. I grew up in Chicoutimi going to sleep (often very late) in a sleeping city. When I started living in Montreal, I could hear the traffic going down Christophe-Colomb non stop. At first I found it disturbing, then I found the noise strangely soothing, like it was a big cat constantly purring. Back in Chicoutimi for the holidays, I had difficulties sleeping as the steady sound of the night's traffic was not there. But Montreal, for a "big" city, is rather calm, in some places at least, at night. I am not sure I would have slept as soundly in London, a city I grew to dislike, partially because of the noise and the frantic beat that creates it. In Liverpool, I could live it, then go home and prepare classes, mark, read and sleep in quiet, peaceful suburbia. The Victorian house I was living in got me used to silence at night, real silence. There is nothing like reading a horror story in a quiet town or village at night. It is a deliciously frightening experience. I would ideally read my crime fiction in a city where I can hear the noisy outside world.
I lived on Christophe Colomb too but I grew up with a highway in my backyard ;)
ReplyDeleteI am now preparing to move to suburbia!
I can relate to this post so easily. I am on holiday in the countryside for three blissful weeks. I have discovered that I am a country mouse through and through. I thought that I could live in the city again, but three months of claustrophobia, car fumes, and noise has made it a failed experiment, and I am counting the months until I can eat my cheese in peace:-) It seems that you haven't quite made up your mind yet, but being adaptable to both environments is probably a good thing. A most thought provoking post Guillaume, thank you.
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