The Noise of Time

Julian Barnes

4 ideas

  1. Waiting by the lift with a suitcase

    In 1936, after Stalin walked out of his opera Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk and Pravda denounced it as 'Muddle Instead of Music', Shostakovich spent nights on his Leningrad landing beside the lift with a packed case, so the NKVD would arrest him there and not in front of his wife and daughter. Summoned to the Big House, he was told by his interrogator, Zakrevsky, to return on Monday with names. When he came back, Zakrevsky had himself been arrested, and Shostakovich was sent home. His survival came from the arbitrariness of the purge machinery, not from any choice he made.

  2. Heroism is momentary; cowardice is a career

    To be a hero you need courage only once: one refusal, then arrest or death, and your moral account is closed. Surviving under tyranny demands the opposite, a lifetime of small compromises that must be renewed daily, each one costing self-respect. The person who lives on therefore carries the heavier and less visible moral burden.

  3. Irony as a protective private language

    Under censorship, irony lets an artist say what the state demands while signalling the opposite to listeners who can hear it, which protects what is valuable. The defence has limits. Power can adopt the same words, the wrong ears can mistake the mockery for sincerity, and a lifetime of doubled meaning can slide into self-deception, until the ironist no longer knows where the mask ends.

  4. Softer tyranny corrupts more than terror

    Under Stalin, power threatened your life, so yielding was coercion, and you could stay inwardly separate from it. Under Khrushchev, power stopped killing and instead persuaded, flattered and ensnared. In 1960 Shostakovich was pressured to join the Party and to sign statements he did not read. Complicity obtained without the excuse of mortal fear damages the conscience more deeply than complicity extracted by terror.

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