The Sound of Silence: Building Walls

The Silence described in Simon and Garfunkel’s “Sound of Silence,” is a silence of absence, not a silence allowing something to be heard. People are depicted as silent, apathetic, and disinterested in interpersonal relationships in favor of newfound technology; the ‘neon gods.’ The song’s rendition by Jew in the City vividly portrays how this silence is built up and promulgated by instant communication and social media. These methods of information exchange discourage strong relationships and deep conversations in favor of multitudes of Facebook friends, superficial tweets, and gaining likes. People are shown sitting or walking with their real friends and family, but ignoring them in favor of their social media “friends.”

Why? Why would anyone ignore real relationships in favor of their social profile? Why are these platforms so ubiquitous and ingrained? Why do people bow and pray to the neon god? It is not that  technology is our Maker, but perhaps we believe technology is our Savior. On social media we can attain all of our daydreams: we can show ourselves to be always smiling and happy, always beautiful, always having perfect friends and family. To keep our perfection from being marred by our actual situation we build a wall of silence around us. We want no one to come in and tell us that our true selves are not what is seen on social media. We become mesmerized and in awe of ourselves, and bow to the neon gods in self-worship. 

The wall of silence we build to protect ourselves comes at the cost of ignoring the very real people around us. And not only people, but God Himself. The people around us know we are imperfect, and God even more so (as Lewis talks about in The Screwtape Letters #22). Only our avatar can be perfect. So, rather than face the challenges of improving ourselves, broadening our understanding, and working on our faults so we can improve our reality, we would rather perfect our avatar and construct a wall of silence so that no one can compare the avatar to the true person. As we build more we become trapped by the silence. Captured in its grip, we no longer hear anything outside our social media bubble. In that bubble we do not hear what we do not want to hear nor see what we do not want to see.

However, what starts as a daydream quickly fades. As our Facebook friends and followers become more numerous, our relationships become more shallow, our tweets more vapid and our thrills less thrilling. The real people, problems, and God we have so long ignored flash before us in harsh reality; what we thought was a daydream is transformed into a real dream, a nightmare.

The human ability to not hear, to construct a cone of silence around us is already described in The Magician’s Nephew. Uncle Andrew easily convinces himself that the witch is a 'dem fine woman,' and would certainly want to marry him. In the new land of Narnia, Uncle Andrew further convinces himself that Aslan is not singing and not creating, the animals are not talking. Despite all evidence to the contrary Uncle Andrew cannot wake up to reality outside of his bubble. That unwillingness becomes so hardened, even Aslan cannot undo it. Uncle Andrew is trapped. He can only wake up when struck with the harsh reality back in London. 

This is what happens on the Dark Island. It is the island where dreams come true. Lord Rhoop landed on the island ready to find the perfect Lord Rhoop. But the island does not present reality and truth, rather the darkness ‘plants visions in people’s brains’ where everyone sees what they think they want to see. Like those who wasted away before the Mirror of Erised, people are mesmerized by how great these visions make them look; how happy they are. They worship the visions because they worship themselves. But by concentrating on visions, reality slips to the wayside. The visions become less engaging, the happiness less achievable, and the dreams become nightmares.

As the Dawn Treader sails into darkness, the passengers lose sight. As they are enveloped by silence they lose hearing. They are warned of the dangers of the island by Lord Rhoop, himself ready to grab onto reality and escape, but the visions begin. The visions are not reality because no two visions are alike:

Everyone knew it would be better not to listen, not to strain his ears for any sound from the darkness. But no one could help listening. And soon everyone was hearing things. Each one heard something different.

"Do you hear a noise like . . . like a huge pair of scissors opening and shutting .. . over there?" Eustace asked Rynelf. 

"Hush!" said Rynelf. "I can hear them crawling up the sides of the ship." 

"It's just going to settle on the mast," said Caspian. 

"Ugh!" said a sailor. "There are the gongs beginning. I knew they would."

Can the walls of silence be broken down? Can light dispel the darkness and the visions? Can one escape the confines of one’s own cone of silence?

We’ll see in the next post.