[Image: The howling of Hell, illustrated by Gustave Doré for Dante’s Inferno].
Nearly seven years ago, we took a brief art historical look at the “landscape architecture of Hell,” quoting critic Adrian Searle‘s description of the medieval abyss:
Terraced, pinnacled, travelling forever downward, the ledges, cities and basements of hell are furnished with sloughs, gorges and deserts; there are cities, rivers of boiling blood, lagoons of scalding pitch, burning deserts, thorny forests, ditches of shit and frozen subterranean lakes. Every kind of sin, and sinner, is catered for. Here, descending circle by circle, like tourists to Bedlam, came Dante and Virgil. Following them, at least through Dante’s poem, came Botticelli.
In a recent issue of The Wire, writer and composer David Toop, in a short article about the various cultural uses of bass, comes to this topic from a different angle, asking what the netherworld of the damned might sound like.
He calls this, citing the Aeneid and Paradise Lost both, the “auditory configuration of Hell”: “The auditory configuration of Hell is an opposition of low homogeneous moan and confused Babel, of deep tones and threnodic shrieks, as if combining the outer extremes of human perception is the most authentic expression of damnation.” There is acoustic “distress,” Toop writes, somewhere “between roaring water and the tumult of the wandering helpless unburied,” where dogs howl and angels whirling to their doom are deafened by “the bellowing of the Earth itself.”
Toop refers to the recent work of Hillel Schwartz, who has pointed out, in Toop’s words, that “Hell was largely silent until Virgil”—a place of total silence—not the pandemonium of noise it seems in popular imagination to have since become.
So let’s hear it for a much longer paper cataloging the shifting sounds of Hell—an interesting thesis topic for an comparative literature department somewhere, at the very least.
5 thoughts on “The Auditory Configuration of Hell”
This is such an interesting idea, and one I'd really like to see explored some more. Dirty Knobs did an an album with a similar theme in the context of doom/drone with Field Recordings from the Edge of Hell. It fits Toop's quote surprisingly well, except perhaps in it's absence of vocals. Still, 8 hours of music for only a buck (or free to stream) is worth checking out.
So Hell sounds like a Merzbow record?
I read the description and the first thing that popped into my head was "Sunn O)))". Okay.
We worked in an airport's access tunnel for an entire day listening over and over to the soul-destroying computerize voice giving parking instructions "parking in the white zone…" Ironically if you were in the tunnel you had already parked your car
Hell sounds like an army of leaf blowers. Sound imperialism, according to R. Murray Schaffer.