If you manage to read this, please read it with a smile. (By the way, Celia thinks I'm deaf and should wear a hearing aid at all times)
I
heard today that a loss of hearing is a possible symptom of the approach of
dementia. At least that is what I thought I heard. Not hearing, or rather the
loss of the ability to hear, can lead gradually to a shrinking of the brain and
hence the onset of Alzheimer’s. I have recently been aware that my hearing is
not as good as it once was. This is in part due to treatment I received a
couple of years ago, which involved chemotherapy and radiotherapy. The
successful treatment of the disease has left me with a degree of tinnitus and a
diminution of hearing, particularly in the right ear. I do not believe it is as
bad as all that; however, it has left me wondering at times, (generally in
crowded situations, such as restaurants, pubs and other such places) what people
are saying. I am not deaf and I believe I do understand what is being said so
long as the speech I am listening to is clear and distinct and unencumbered
from extraneous background or surrounding noise. Thus many people round a
dinner table, all speaking at more of less the same time, makes it sometimes
difficult for me to understand what is being said, even if spoken directly at
me. The distance between the speaker and myself is also a factor. The resulting
incomprehension can make one appear distant and uninterested, perhaps even seem
a bit slow and dim. Thus public places can be difficult to negotiate. This
condition coupled with my stubborn denial of it, can make one seem brusque or
gruff as well as slow and dim. Nonetheless, I believe my critical faculties are
still intact, if sometimes misguided, or simply prejudicial and irrational.
I
have been made more particularly aware of this condition because of recent
visits to the theatre and the cinema. Both these are public places, with lots
of people speaking at the same time. The noise level tends to increase with the
numbers of people talking. Volume gets louder as people seek to be heard above
the general increase in din. As soon as the show starts the noise subsides and
one is left with oneself in the dark and the spectacle on stage or screen. At
the cinema, what with state of the art sound systems, there is no difficulty
hearing what speech there is to hear. Indeed it is sometimes too loud. One
adjusts to the sound levels, but the sound is sufficiently loud to drown out
the audience coughs and eating of popcorn and sweets and the drinking of thirst
quenching soda pops. The theatre is another story entirely.
Last
Thursday I went to see a new play at the Southwark Playhouse. It is not a huge
space and the seating was arranged in tiers facing the performance area. It was
very neat and tidy allowing everyone a good view or sight line, and hence
unencumbered hearing. I was however seated on the side at the back and behind
me was the continuous drone of the air conditioner. This did not make for easy
hearing, and on occasion when actors were speaking with their backs towards my
position in the audience, unless they were very clear and distinct, I could not
make out what they were saying. After the interval a friend graciously changed
seats with me and I was in a more central position to the performance area. The
noise from the air conditioning was reduced as well. What is most disconcerting
in these situations is that when the fully hearing audience reacts with joint
laughter or shock, one feels left out. One has missed the joke or the calamity and
one feels less involved. This can detract from one’s enjoyment of the play and
makes one critical of certain aspects of the piece out of ignorance and
misunderstanding, just from a lack of comprehension. Dessert, is, in my view, most definitely worth hearing and seeing. I am a fan of the Cotton oeuvres.
Lack
of comprehension on the other hand, is not always the fault of the physical
aspects of the venue. On Monday evening we went to the Hamlet at the Harold
Pinter Theatre. It is a new and interesting production. I was not entirely
overwhelmed and some directorial decisions were, in my view, misguided and
simply wrong. The acting was on the whole wonderful, however, there were
moments when certain characters gabbled. I am not alone in thinking this. I did
read a review in which the reviewer commented on some dialogue being
indistinct. Indeed the only actors in the play who were completely distinct and
audible at all times were the Player King & Ghost (David Rintoul) and the
Player Queen (Mary Cruickshank). I am afraid some of the acting was more
appropriate to the screen than the theatre. The production did involve some
screen performances which was of course clear and distinct because of the very
modern sound system.
Some
of the joint audience reaction made me realize that I did miss out on some
dialogue because of hearing loss, but not all of my difficulties were down to
that alone. I believe I know the play reasonably well and those monologues of
note included, on occasions, some prattle or rant. It was gabble. Hamlet’s
directions to the players, “Speak the speech, I pray you, as I
pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue: but if
you mouth it, as many of your players do, I had as
lief the town-crier spoke my lines” was indeed very well delivered, but I
wish the actors, including Hamlet himself, had taken up his admonitions
throughout.
What
it comes down to, if you come over for supper, please be patient with the
hearing impaired cook.