We Will Be Killed With Our Families, By John Cage
Sometimes, the void created by a lack of words leads to more discoveries than a plethora of words. The key to gaining further information from silence lies in listening to the unspoken statements versus the words actually put forth into the universe. Along these same lines, John Cage composed a well-known piece called 4’33”, which shocks many listeners due to his refrain from touching the piano in front of him. After first encountering this unique work, I found myself baffled and pondering the deeper meaning behind Cage’s intention. I recognized the sound of shuffling people, the clicking of the Tudor, and the other indications of movement and life. Reflecting on his own creation, Cage interprets 4’33” as a type of “imaginary beauty,” where
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the audience infers past the stillness to truly listen the world around them (qtd. In Pritchett 1). He believes this “process of basic emptiness with just a few things arising in it” forces the audience to acknowledge the sounds frequently ignored on an everyday basis (qtd. In Pritchett 1).
By using the lack of notes played, Cage leads to the question of how to hear humanity in silence. While exploring the central African country of Rwanda, Phillip Gourevitch writes about his personal observations of the silences created by the genocide in his essay called “We Wish to Inform You That Tomorrow We Will Be Killed With Our Families.” He pays attention to the lack of bodies as a silence comparable to the literal silence in John Cage’s piece. After researching the facts of the tragedy, Gourevitch addresses how the genocide lead to the murder of “some 800,000 Tutsi,” yet recognizes the few mutilated bodies he inspects reflect such a small portion of the total violence that occurred (501). Observing the evidence left behind, he acknowledges that each body found is only one of eight hundred thousand and somehow a majority of these eight hundred thousand bodies vanished into thin air. He elaborates on how he discovers such a few amount of clues retrospective to the entirety that should exist while relaying his sights of the “fifty mostly decomposed cadavers” he witnessed in the Kibungo school yard (501). Due to the fact only fifty cadavers exist, Gourevitch claims the human remains initiate a basic understanding of the brutality that happened during these times of mass murder despite their small
proportion of the overall amount. Distinguishing the carcasses, Gourevitch cringes at the “skin stuck here and there,” yet persists seeing still does not lead to believing in his case (502). He perceives the full weight of the cruelty derives from similar ideas to John Cage where he alludes that the omission of movement indicates an absence of life. Also, Gourevitch asserts that the “grenade-flattened buildings, burnt homesteads, shot-up facades, and mortar-pitted roads” show the ravages of war and not of genocide (505). Instead, these destructions of infrastructure point to the fact that all the lives which inhabited these locations cease to exist. From the “jagged rain forests, round-shouldered buttes, undulating moors, broad swells of savanna, [and] volcanic peaks,” Gourevitch conceives the beauty which persists despite the recent devastation which leads back to how the vacancy of physical evidence provides more information (505). The beauty found in Rwanda exists due to the fact the land shows no evidence of death because on the condition that the violent destruction remained the landscape would show tragedy and not beauty. Therefore, the significance of beauty comes from how it proves no signs of violence meaning that all the murdered victims leave no trace. Left by a void of bodies, the absence weighs more by revealing the hole left in the population where life once flourished. If violence creates a buildup of victims, then why does the absence of lives and blood indicate the degree of tragedy as well as abuse that occurred due to emptiness that arises? Analyzing the cadavers found in the Province of Kibungo, Gourevitch inspects all the data and facts around him to gather as much knowledge to create a precise memory of the scene. He detects the eerie “silence of the place” and postulates the scarcity of sound demonstrates the impact of the disappearance of lives has on Rwanda (502). He asserts the quietness emerging from the manslaughter leads to an understanding of the repercussion an enormous pile of cadavers never could. When making the evidence vanish, Gourevitch believes the Hutus made the significance of the Tutsi’s absence more recognizable as it created a clear dent located in the once inhabited areas. For instance, while traveling throughout Rwanda, Gourevitch engages with his Tutsi driver, Joseph, who angrily declares his beloved country lies “empty!” due to the unforgiving murderers associated with the Hutus (505). Analyzing this encounter, Gourevitch builds on his belief about disappearing evidence by recognizing this desolation suggests the void of bodies present, which should be present, establishes the connection to imagining the gruesome genocide. Yes, Gourevitch discovers pieces of physical evidence signifying torture and murder, but the lack of evidence like bodies indicates the silencing of the entirety that ensued. By recognizing how many bodies he’s not seeing, he’s recognizing how many more exist out there.
In “Regarding the Pain of Other,” Susan Sontag notices this lack of evidence in photos that capture warzones results from the fact they provide a snapshot partial reality, and not the full picture. Scrutinizing these photographs, Sontag contemplates the effects of the disturbing content present, and she doubts whether the content reveals the true weight of the violence not illustrated. She analyzes her observances of the human response by drawing upon Virginia Woolf’s argument as a lens to contemplate the different types of evidence that indicate war. Sontag provides a broad view of the violence captured by giving extensive histories on what occurred in each violent scene depicted in a photograph. By including a description of the photograph of the “naked and bloodied” Taliban depicted in the New York Times, Sontag presents how graphic evidence like blood lead viewers of this picture to feel pity and disgust (231). She claims the harm conducted emanates just as clear as if the Taliban man disappeared. Unlike Gourevitch, she believes the mangled flesh reveals the same implication of a destroyed human life as the absence of bodies does. A picture of a dead body allows viewers to grasp the magnitude of how much war kills, however a single body simply can not establish a sense for both the cost and toll war brings overall. By showing one victim, the realization of how many wars lead to the murder of innocent lives “whose deaths are not being shown” starts to come into question (231). Sontag distinguishes that even though some cruelties hide and disappear, the truth of the tragedy still reveals itself by secondary evidence giving the outline to the fuller picture of the destruction. Despite some of the irrefutable abuse, the secondary evidence, incorporated in the photographs, Sontag also finds such regularly printed images in today’s media fail to “show what war, war as such, does” (228). Due to the amount of “anonymous generic victims,” Sontag views the Taliban image, mentioned above, as clear violence, but viewers never feel the impact of the annihilation because they form no connection (228). The depicted man resembles so many of the other wartime images that the significance of each life compiles into a distant group developing a shield for outsiders to deflect responsibility. In other words, Sontag believes in the necessity of a personal reckoning with the deceased in order feel the impact of the annihilation of yet another human being. This theory builds upon Gourevitch’s idea that a devastation like the Rwandan genocide stays “strangely unimaginable” (Gourevitch 502) due to the fact outsiders lack a comparable situation. The failure of Gourevitch, as a newcomer, to feel the loss of each life arises since he never faced any persecution or attacks. After viewing the appalling graphics, Sontag realizes the privileged unsuccessfully interpret the real matters, and she claims they simply “prefer to ignore” the combat that obviously occurs everyday (227). A connection between Sontag and Gourevitch emerges clearly as Gourevitch elaborates on how westerners like himself typically have “never been among the dead before,” (Gourevitch 502) and therefore fails to find a reference to the pain. The westerners exist on such opposite ends of the Earth that the contact between the two remains miniscule consequently. Living such a luxurious lives, outsiders, like Americans, live in an alternate reality of a safe bubble, where the horrors occur else where never occur. Lacking these struggles, they collect all the information about such tragedies in order to try to wrap their heads around the meaning. Gourevitch attests a comprehension of the tragedy that happened develops from a “precise memory” for as evidence depletes over time the existence of nothingness contrasts to the remembrance of wholeness (504). Without a clear recollection of the past, the silence that results gives no direction or indication of such tragedy happening whereas an informed individual would draw the connection as to how the absence of bodies means a loss of human lives.
the audience infers past the stillness to truly listen the world around them (qtd. In Pritchett 1). He believes this “process of basic emptiness with just a few things arising in it” forces the audience to acknowledge the sounds frequently ignored on an everyday basis (qtd. In Pritchett 1).
By using the lack of notes played, Cage leads to the question of how to hear humanity in silence. While exploring the central African country of Rwanda, Phillip Gourevitch writes about his personal observations of the silences created by the genocide in his essay called “We Wish to Inform You That Tomorrow We Will Be Killed With Our Families.” He pays attention to the lack of bodies as a silence comparable to the literal silence in John Cage’s piece. After researching the facts of the tragedy, Gourevitch addresses how the genocide lead to the murder of “some 800,000 Tutsi,” yet recognizes the few mutilated bodies he inspects reflect such a small portion of the total violence that occurred (501). Observing the evidence left behind, he acknowledges that each body found is only one of eight hundred thousand and somehow a majority of these eight hundred thousand bodies vanished into thin air. He elaborates on how he discovers such a few amount of clues retrospective to the entirety that should exist while relaying his sights of the “fifty mostly decomposed cadavers” he witnessed in the Kibungo school yard (501). Due to the fact only fifty cadavers exist, Gourevitch claims the human remains initiate a basic understanding of the brutality that happened during these times of mass murder despite their small
proportion of the overall amount. Distinguishing the carcasses, Gourevitch cringes at the “skin stuck here and there,” yet persists seeing still does not lead to believing in his case (502). He perceives the full weight of the cruelty derives from similar ideas to John Cage where he alludes that the omission of movement indicates an absence of life. Also, Gourevitch asserts that the “grenade-flattened buildings, burnt homesteads, shot-up facades, and mortar-pitted roads” show the ravages of war and not of genocide (505). Instead, these destructions of infrastructure point to the fact that all the lives which inhabited these locations cease to exist. From the “jagged rain forests, round-shouldered buttes, undulating moors, broad swells of savanna, [and] volcanic peaks,” Gourevitch conceives the beauty which persists despite the recent devastation which leads back to how the vacancy of physical evidence provides more information (505). The beauty found in Rwanda exists due to the fact the land shows no evidence of death because on the condition that the violent destruction remained the landscape would show tragedy and not beauty. Therefore, the significance of beauty comes from how it proves no signs of violence meaning that all the murdered victims leave no trace. Left by a void of bodies, the absence weighs more by revealing the hole left in the population where life once flourished. If violence creates a buildup of victims, then why does the absence of lives and blood indicate the degree of tragedy as well as abuse that occurred due to emptiness that arises? Analyzing the cadavers found in the Province of Kibungo, Gourevitch inspects all the data and facts around him to gather as much knowledge to create a precise memory of the scene. He detects the eerie “silence of the place” and postulates the scarcity of sound demonstrates the impact of the disappearance of lives has on Rwanda (502). He asserts the quietness emerging from the manslaughter leads to an understanding of the repercussion an enormous pile of cadavers never could. When making the evidence vanish, Gourevitch believes the Hutus made the significance of the Tutsi’s absence more recognizable as it created a clear dent located in the once inhabited areas. For instance, while traveling throughout Rwanda, Gourevitch engages with his Tutsi driver, Joseph, who angrily declares his beloved country lies “empty!” due to the unforgiving murderers associated with the Hutus (505). Analyzing this encounter, Gourevitch builds on his belief about disappearing evidence by recognizing this desolation suggests the void of bodies present, which should be present, establishes the connection to imagining the gruesome genocide. Yes, Gourevitch discovers pieces of physical evidence signifying torture and murder, but the lack of evidence like bodies indicates the silencing of the entirety that ensued. By recognizing how many bodies he’s not seeing, he’s recognizing how many more exist out there.
In “Regarding the Pain of Other,” Susan Sontag notices this lack of evidence in photos that capture warzones results from the fact they provide a snapshot partial reality, and not the full picture. Scrutinizing these photographs, Sontag contemplates the effects of the disturbing content present, and she doubts whether the content reveals the true weight of the violence not illustrated. She analyzes her observances of the human response by drawing upon Virginia Woolf’s argument as a lens to contemplate the different types of evidence that indicate war. Sontag provides a broad view of the violence captured by giving extensive histories on what occurred in each violent scene depicted in a photograph. By including a description of the photograph of the “naked and bloodied” Taliban depicted in the New York Times, Sontag presents how graphic evidence like blood lead viewers of this picture to feel pity and disgust (231). She claims the harm conducted emanates just as clear as if the Taliban man disappeared. Unlike Gourevitch, she believes the mangled flesh reveals the same implication of a destroyed human life as the absence of bodies does. A picture of a dead body allows viewers to grasp the magnitude of how much war kills, however a single body simply can not establish a sense for both the cost and toll war brings overall. By showing one victim, the realization of how many wars lead to the murder of innocent lives “whose deaths are not being shown” starts to come into question (231). Sontag distinguishes that even though some cruelties hide and disappear, the truth of the tragedy still reveals itself by secondary evidence giving the outline to the fuller picture of the destruction. Despite some of the irrefutable abuse, the secondary evidence, incorporated in the photographs, Sontag also finds such regularly printed images in today’s media fail to “show what war, war as such, does” (228). Due to the amount of “anonymous generic victims,” Sontag views the Taliban image, mentioned above, as clear violence, but viewers never feel the impact of the annihilation because they form no connection (228). The depicted man resembles so many of the other wartime images that the significance of each life compiles into a distant group developing a shield for outsiders to deflect responsibility. In other words, Sontag believes in the necessity of a personal reckoning with the deceased in order feel the impact of the annihilation of yet another human being. This theory builds upon Gourevitch’s idea that a devastation like the Rwandan genocide stays “strangely unimaginable” (Gourevitch 502) due to the fact outsiders lack a comparable situation. The failure of Gourevitch, as a newcomer, to feel the loss of each life arises since he never faced any persecution or attacks. After viewing the appalling graphics, Sontag realizes the privileged unsuccessfully interpret the real matters, and she claims they simply “prefer to ignore” the combat that obviously occurs everyday (227). A connection between Sontag and Gourevitch emerges clearly as Gourevitch elaborates on how westerners like himself typically have “never been among the dead before,” (Gourevitch 502) and therefore fails to find a reference to the pain. The westerners exist on such opposite ends of the Earth that the contact between the two remains miniscule consequently. Living such a luxurious lives, outsiders, like Americans, live in an alternate reality of a safe bubble, where the horrors occur else where never occur. Lacking these struggles, they collect all the information about such tragedies in order to try to wrap their heads around the meaning. Gourevitch attests a comprehension of the tragedy that happened develops from a “precise memory” for as evidence depletes over time the existence of nothingness contrasts to the remembrance of wholeness (504). Without a clear recollection of the past, the silence that results gives no direction or indication of such tragedy happening whereas an informed individual would draw the connection as to how the absence of bodies means a loss of human lives.