I mentioned yesterday that Matt Haig's book, How to Stop Time, had some rare jewels of wisdom and keen observance toward the end of the book. I thought I'd share one here today.
"[The 1920s] was an age of noise, and so suddenly playing music had a new importance. It made you master of the world. Amid the accidental cacophony of modern life to be able to play music, to make sense out of noise, could briefly mad you a kind of god. A creator. An orderer. A comfort giver.
...
But there was a sense of something tipping out of balance. The times seemed out of joint. There was too much decadence. Too much intensity. Too much change. Too much happiness juxtaposed with too much misery. Too much wealth next to too much poverty. The world was becoming faster and louder, and the social systems were becoming as chaotic and fragmented as jazz scores. So there was a craving, in some places, for simplicity, for order, for scapegoats and for bully-boy leaders, for nations to become like religions or cults. It happened every now and then." (201, 204-205)
One of the gifts of being an historian is having a long view of things. (It can also make a Cassandra out of you, but that's another story). You realize that most of what happens in the world has happened before, a thousand times before. It is the way of things.
I will say too: history does not repeat itself, but it often rhymes.
Quotes taken from:
Matt Haig, How to Stop Time. Canongate Books: Edinburgh, 2017.
Love your own comment - that history often rhymes.
ReplyDeleteThat's interesting about the role of musicians in the 20s. I've often thought how incredibly precious being able to make music must have been before music recording became available.
I can't claim credit for it! I think it was Mark Twain that said it originally.
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