Getting Lost In Listening

Today, just a little while ago, I found myself sitting at my computer for over two hours listening to a couple articles from The New Yorker being read to me, courtesy of Audm. While Audm itself is a service that requires payment, The New Yorker places an audio player near the top of every long-form article it publishes so that readers (or, in this case, listeners) can enjoy it free of charge.

During this hour or so, usually a combined several hours over the course of a week, I sit at my desk and simply listen. I almost always play solitaire as a way to keep myself even more engaged, but my mind is always on the reading. What used to demand and then keep my attention for maybe five or ten minutes can now engross me for hours on end. I sit there, maybe playing solitaire, maybe not, and either way, listening.

The intimate storytelling of podcasting, the morality of military interventional tactics, the latest political debacle, the impact of social media on young people; every topic made fascinating and captivating, words that demand respect in written-form and, better yet, your attention, when read aloud. The impact of turning written articles into a podcast-style audio file is more exciting than I could have imagined, as a younger self. The most unsettling made more so; the most tantalizing made even more exciting; the most unhappy made sadder. The moments written on paper, or typed on a computer, come alive.

Admittedly, this no doubt involves my lack of imagination. I’ve always been more drawn to nonfiction, as I enjoy learning about the reality of a certain field or topic. Language is funny in that it’s subjective and circumstantial.

A vociferous and intimidating roar, “I love you, dog!” isn’t likely to be met with excitement from a near-by canine. Likewise, a kind, light-hearted and beatific “I’m going to kill you” may very well give a nearby dog a reason to wag its tail (think of the “baby-talk” we all use for children and pets). The context in which we communicate heavily impacts its perceived meaning (a point hilariously made here by Penn Jillette).

This is provides reason as to how three different can read the same sentence and walk away with three different interpretations. Or for an even more complicated example, there may be as many interpretations as there are words in a sentence. Consider this sentence: “I never said she stole my money.” Seven words that comprise a single sentence that has seven different interpretations, all of which depend on which of these words that reader or speaker chooses to emphasize.

I suppose this is what I like most about audio books and their selection of narrator. The person who knows the true intentions of their words is the writer, and therefore, the writer is often the best choice.

Nonetheless, it’s remarkable how lost in story we can get.